


Remember Me.

by bjtremike



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Amnesia, Anal Sex, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, Homophobic Language, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Racism, Walkers (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 50,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjtremike/pseuds/bjtremike
Summary: After Daryl Dixon fled Atlanta, he ended up in Boston, where he met a pair of brothers. He never expected the blonde Irishman to turn his whole world upside down. But what happens when an uninvited guest takes everything away from him, including his memory of Connor? Next to trying to get his memories back, the apocalypse is just a walk in the fiery pits of hell.I do not own the plot, or characters of The Boondocks Saints, or The Walking Dead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a dream, in case it confuses you. A lot of this story will have dreams and flash backs.

_Blonde hair. Messy from fingers being constantly run through._

_Wide, sky blue eyes. Pupils dilated from the amount of love and pleasure being jolted through his body._

_Black ink jumping out against golden skin from the fading daylight._

_Breathy moans escaped a kiss swollen mouth, having been worshipped with tongue and teeth._

_'Connor,' his mind supplied as those deep pools of sapphire fixed on him and those swollen lips stretched into a loving smile. Connor's lithe, toned body writhed on his lap as his cock slowly slid into his body, making the moment stretch as far as he could. Making his love for this man be known. Bringing his lips into contact with Connor's again for a soft kiss, he felt the blonde's moan reverberate against his mouth. Smiling as the blonde's head snapped back and a high pitched keen left Connor's lips as his cock found that place inside him that made him see white._

_"Daryl." Came the groan from deep inside Connor's throat, bringing Daryl back from everything Connor. He took in his surroundings, noticing the lack of, well anything. One wall was lined with a shower with multiple knobs and shower heads, a mattress shoved into the corner, (that they were on). His crossbow resting by the door next to a small coffee table littered with liquor and beer bottles. Where was he?_

_'Boston,' his mind supplied._

_Why? How did he get here? Why was he with this strange, gorgeous, blonde man grinding into his lap?_

_'Love,' was his answer._

_Daryl stared up into cerulean blues again, looking for something. Anything that would jog his memory. All he got was another smile and Connor's voice whispering, "I love you," before his mouth was invaded by a glorious tongue._

_Daryl moaned low in his throat as he pushed his hips up to meet the Irishman's. Irish? He felt himself floating as Connor's deep brogue whispered, "Happy two years," into his ear._

_Daryl watched from a distance as he saw himself smile at the blonde, gently laying him down on the bed. "Happy two years," he whispered back as he watched his hips begin to drive into the Irishman's again, slowly and with purpose._

_Two years? He had been with this man for two years? What if Merle found out? He'd kill Connor and beat him to a pulp._

_'Watch.'_

_Daryl didn't realise his eyes had strayed from the scene in front of him, but he was shocked by what he saw when he drifted back; He saw himself peppering light kisses all over the blonde's body. First on his forehead, then on each eyelid, kissing both his cheeks before finding his lips again. He didn't linger there long as his lips found the virgin Mary tattoo on his neck._

_"Scheiße!" Connor's brogue have way to German as Daryl's own teeth worried at the sensitive skin. Daryl found himself entranced as he listened to blonde moan and gasp in German. The weirdest thing was, he could understand everything that Connor was saying._

_How is this possible? He didn't know any other language._

_'Keep watching.'_

_He watched with curiosity as Connor switched his languages so easily. From German to French. French to Italian. Even going into Gaelic, but always coming back to German._

_"Ich liebe dich. So schön. Sei mein für immer." Daryl felt his jaw drop as he heard himself answering the Irishman. That broad smile appeared on Connor's face again, with a hint of pride, as he brought his arms up to bring Daryl's lips back onto his own, wrapping his arms securely around Daryl's neck and gripping his black locks with trembling fingers._

_There was something missing. He could feel it in the back of his mind. What was it? Noticing a glint from across the room, he turned to see what had caught his eye. In a pile of discarded clothes, glinting in the dying sunlight, was a silver ring. A Claddagh ring._

_'An engagement ring.'_

_What? Daryl looked back to where his counterpart was still making love to the blonde, whispering his love and devotion into the golden skin. He wanted to marry this man? He didn't even know he was gay let alone in a relationship with a man. But he saw the way he looked at this man; Like Connor was his whole world. He never thought he could have something like that. Why couldn't he remember?_

_He cried out in agony, falling to his knees as pain lanced through his head. He clutched his head, trying to will the pain away. His mind was trying to make itself remember, trying to tell him something important that he needed to remember. A warning._

_Daryl glanced back over to the bed and watched as the couple- oblivious to his pain- were nearing their completion. But they never got there._

_The door to Daryl's- he knew this was his place- apartment burst open and in walked the last person he wanted to be near the Irishman; His big brother, Merle._

_Daryl watched with horror as Merle ripped his counterpart away from Connor, making the blonde scream out in pain. Watched as he tried to stop Merle from going after Connor and ended up being thrown across the room for his efforts, head cracking sickeningly against the wall. Saw Connor cry out his name, but he couldn't hear anything over the rushing in his ears. Watched as Connor gave Merle as good as he got, despite the pain he was in. He punched and kicked Merle with everything he had, but it wasn't enough._

_Merle pinned Connor to the floor, his hands wrapped tightly around the blonde's throat, choking him as he screamed in his face. Daryl watched himself throw himself at Merle, bashing his head with his fist. Merle quickly let go of Connor and caught Daryl's next punch, wrenching his arm back and wrapping his free hand around Daryl's own throat._

_Daryl watched himself stare at Connor, knew he was willing the blonde to move, get up- breathe! But nothing happened. Daryl felt so helpless as he just stood there and watched his counterpart in Merle's grip as he screamed and begged for the Irishman to get up. Watched as Connor lay perfectly still. Watched Merle, as a malevolent smile twisted his features at the pain he had just caused._

_All he could do was watch and watch and watch, until the edges of his vision began to fade as he knew his counterpart's was as well from Merle's grip. And all he could do was stare at Connor as he lost consciousness, willing the blonde to just move._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German trasnlation:
> 
> ich liebe dich. So schön. Sei mein für immer- I love you. So beautiful. Be mine forever.
> 
> Scheiße- Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl jerked awake from his nightmare with a hoarse shout. He took in his surroundings, hand going for the knife at his waist, ready for anything. Realising that he was in the back seat of a car on the dead highway, he relaxed, leaning back against the door. Rubbing his grimey face with his equally dirty hands, he let out a deep sigh. How long was he going to have to suffer through these dreams? How long had he even been having them? At least every night for the past five years. Probably, it was hard to keep track of the days since this shit storm happened. But every one was different. He had so many dreams, all of them with the blue eyed man. He could never remember his face or name when he awoke, but he always remembered the eyes. Bluer then the deepest ocean. How they crinkled up at the corner when he smiled, squinting until they were almost shut when he laughed.

This last dream had been happening more and more lately, making himself feel sick every time he woke up and remembered the anguish on his own face. The fear of loss. He wished he knew the dreams meant. Wished he knew who the blue eyed man was and why in almost dream they were lovers.

Daryl looked down at the braided rope around his neck. Hanging on the rope was the Claddagh ring from his dream.

Five years ago, Daryl Dixon had woken up on the floor of his brother, Merle's, living room, bloody, bruised ribs, swollen eye and a large gash on the back of his head, with no memory of the past three years. Merle had told him that they had gone out drinking the night before, with a few of Merle's buddies, and had gotten into a bar fight. Daryl had apparently taken a few we'll aimed body shots and a glass bottle to the back of the head. Merle had a few bumps and bruises too; Mainly one hell of a shiner and a cut above his left eyebrow. Thinking that the bottle was the cause of his memory loss, he tried asking Merle about the last few years, hoping to jog his memory. Merle told him he had no idea, that he had been locked up for most of that time - which didn't surprise Daryl at all. All he knew was that for the last few months, Daryl had been staying at his place. Nothing more, nothing less.

Merle was the only person that Daryl had ever really hung out with, so if he couldn't tell him what happened, no one could. Realising that, Daryl decided not to dwell on it. If he couldn't remember, then it must not have been important. So, he forgot about it just tried to go through the motions of the day. Until he went to bed that night.

That night, Daryl had his first dream about the blue eyed man.

_He dreamt that he was walking down the streets of South Boston, (which was weird because he had never been outside of Georgia in his life), cigarette dangling from his lips, heading towards his new job at the meat packing plant. He had been in Boston for a few weeks now and he was fucking bored. He couldn't hunt, he didn't live anywhere near a wooded area. The closest place was about forty miles away. Which wouldn't be so bad if he had a car, which he didn't. Also why he was walking to work today._

_He didn't mind the walking too much, except for the fact that it was getting fucking cold. Living in Georgia, he never really had to worry about the days growing colder during the winter months, but here, it was a shock to his system. He was just glad he had packed his leather jacket when he left as it was the only thing keeping out the bite of the wind._

_Daryl was just putting out his smoke when he arrived at the plant. Walking through the front door he instantly wrapped his arms around himself. It was fucking cold. He noticed a reception desk and walked over, his heavy boots clunking on the floor. Daryl saw a bleach blonde woman sitting behind the desk, looking just as bored as he had felt earlier in the week, popping her gum. He tapped on the counter to get her attention. She just blew a bubble. He cleared his throat._

_The blonde's shoulders rose heavily as she sighed. "If you have a grievance, please take a number," she grumbled not looking up, voice flat and expressionless._

_"Okay," Daryl replied, uncertainty in his voice. "I'm the new employee. I'm supposed to start today."_

_Another snap of gum and she finally looked up. When her eyes landed on Daryl, her whole demeanor changed. She instantly sat up and smiled, leaning forward to push her boobs out, dark brown eyes lighting up. "Oh, Murphy," she chortled - actually chortled. "You are so funny! You really had me going there for a second."_

_Now that Daryl could actually see her face, he kind of wanted to throw up a little. She had a long face with a huge nose. Bright pink lipstick painted on too thin lips, cobalt blue eyeshadow with heavily applied mascara, and blush so vibrant, it looked like she woke up and decided she wanted to be a clown. She looked more like a horse with makeup._

_Daryl narrowed his eyes at the blonde. Was she trying to flirt with him? And who the hell is Murphy? "Murphy? No. My name is Daryl Dixon. I'm looking for James McGerkin."_

_She snorted though her nose. "Wow Murphy, you're really committed to this aren't you? Even changed your accent. That's really impressive."_

_Daryl rolled his eyes. Was she being serious? "Look," his eyes drifted to her name tag, "Patricia-."_

_"Patty," she interrupted, batting her overly done eyelashes._

_The hunter swallowed a groan. "Patty. My name is not Murphy, it's Daryl. And I'm looking for someone named McGerkin. Can you point me in his direction?"_

_This time, she was he-hawing through the hand that tried to cover her mouth. She took in a deep breath to calm herself, but was still giggling like an escaped mental patient. Daryl wouldn't be surprised if she was. "Stop! Murphy, stop. You are too funny! I thought I told you that you didn't have to go to these lengths to impress me. I will go out with you, you just need to actually ask."_

_Daryl shook his head. He had had enough. "Okay, listen here ya dumb blonde; My name is Daryl. Not Murphy, Daryl you fuckin' horse. Today is my first day and I need to see McGerkin. So, if you stop trying to spread your legs for every other person that walks through that door, I would appreciate it so I can start work. Is that okay with you?"_

_The horse was actually quiet. She sat in her chair with her mouth hanging open so wide that her gum fell out of her mouth and into her lap. She didn't say anything, just lifted her hand and, with shaking fingers, pointed to the door on her left._

_"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Daryl snarled as he walked toward the door. Without looking back, he called out, "And shut your fuckin' trap before you catch flies," and walked through the door._

_The younger Dixon looked around the long corridor, trying to find his destination. Walking a few steps, he spotted a door down the hall that read, 'James McGerkin - Manager'. He walked over and tapped on the door, waiting for a response._

_"Aye, come on in."_

_Hesitantly, Daryl walked through the door and was met by a man with light blonde hair, blonde beard and a few extra pounds under his belt._

_"And who are you now?" He asked in a deep Irish brogue._

_Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was getting really tired of saying his name today. "Daryl Dixon. I'm your new worker."_

_"Aye, that's right. Sorry lad, the day's just gettin' started. Not even fully up yet." McGerkin took a large sip out of a styrofoam cup with a grimace. "Well that coffee's shite. Anyway, name's McGerkin. Don' call me sir, or for the love of God, mister. We clear?"_

_Daryl nodded._

_McGerkin nodded back. "Alrigh'. Take a seat. You a hard worker there, Dixon?"_

_Daryl crossed his arms as he sat down across from the Irishman. "Ain't never had a problem with hard work. You give me something to do, it'll get done. Ya ain't gotta worry about that," was his grumbled response._

_McGerkin evaluated him with his eyes, making the hunter fidgety. "You seem like a man that doesn' take any shite. I've got a few clowns workin' here - brothers. Sadly, they're the ones I'm gonna have trainin' ya. They're my best workers though. You gonna have a problem with that?"_

_Daryl mentally sighed. If they started screwing around, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from knocking them on their ass. "Shouldn't be a problem."_

_McGerkin clapped his hands and stood. "Good. Let's go get your work clothes and go meet the fellas, aye?"_

_Whoa, work clothes?" Daryl rose to his feet. "Nobody told me I'd have to wear no goddamned uniform."_

_McGerkin started chuckling, shaking his head. "Son, this is a meat packin' plant. It's fuckin' freezin' in here. We give you a jacket, butcher's coat and a pair of gloves, so you don' freeze your fuckin' balls off. I don' give a shit what you wear, but it ain't gonna be my fault if you get hypothermia." He walked, still chuckling, beckoning for Daryl to follow._

_They walked to a supply closed and got Daryl his jackets and gloves, then over to the to break room for Daryl to shuck his leather jacket for the day. After he was dressed, they went over to door labeled, 'Plant Entrance'._

_"Brace yourself," McGerkin said. "It's gonna get real cold."_

_Daryl just scoffed as the Irishman opened the door, but cursed himself when he walked out. It was fucking freezing. He could barely tolerate the weather outside. McGerkin was right about him freezing his balls off. He heard the fat bastard's full bodied laugh as his hands came up to rub at his arms._

_"You'll get used to it, Son. It hits everyone hard the first time." He clapped Daryl on the shoulder and started leading him towards a staircase that led into the actual plant. "Connor! Murphy! Your new recruit's here!"_

_Daryl saw movement on the floor as two grown men, one with blonde hair one with dark brown, started shoving each other and racing towards the door of the stairs like a couple of kids. These were the guys that he had to put up with? He was never going to survive._

_Just as he was wishing that he'd never come to Boston in the first place, the darker haired brother got to the stairs first, having tripped the blonde, and they both stopped. This fucker had his face! He was almost a perfect copy of Daryl himself. Same hair style, Daryl's being a little darker in color. Same eyes. Except Daryl's was more of a stormy grey, this guy's was more of a dark blue and Daryl didn't have a mole on his face, but his look-a-like did. No wonder that stupid cow at the front desk confused him for this guy. This must be Murphy._

_"Jesus fuckin' Christ."_

_Daryl's eyes snapped off of Murphy and into the blonde next to him. He had to stop his jaw from hitting the floor as his eyes locked on to the most intense, sapphire eyes he had ever seen. He didn't blink as he took in every little detail about the blonde that he could. Strong jaw, high cheek bones, light dusting of facial hair, dark blonde hair spiked on top of his head. But he kept going back to those beautiful blues. He had never seen a more pure color of blue in his life. This was Connor._

_The hunter shook his head. What the fuck was he doing? He wasn't gay. He had made that mistake before, starring too long at another man, and he had been beaten badly, both by Merle and by his dad. If you could call him that. They whipped him with a belt buckle across his back. Broke his arm in two different places. Collapsed his lung and gave him one hell of a concussion. He couldn't leave the hospital for two weeks and he never looked at another man, unless he had to, again. Until now._

_But, wasn't this why he fled to Boston? So he could get away from his family and never have to deal with the beatings again? Daryl closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Just because he had left, didn't mean he was a fag. He just wanted the beatings to stop._

_He opened his eyes again and saw that the brothers were still staring at him, so he focused again on McGerkin, who was busy laughing at their expressions. "I know. The lad here looks jus' like Murphy, don' he boys?"_

_The brothers nodded, still at a loss for words, which made McGerkin snort in amusement. "I've never seen them speechless before! This is gonna be a good day." He took a deep breath to calm himself, but couldn't get the grin off his face. "Alrigh' lads, get to work. Show Daryl here the ropes and keep an eye on him. Don' make his first day hell." With that, he walked back out the door and left Daryl to his fate._

_He glanced back down at the brothers and saw that they were heatedly whispering to each other. Connor made a move to swipe at the back of Murphy's head, but Murphy ducked and socked his brother in the shoulder, laughing. Daryl sighed as he watched them box and knew this was gonna be a long day. He took a deep breath and began his descent toward the brothers at the bottom. At this point, Connor had Murphy in a head lock and Murphy was punching his thigh, trying to get his brother to let go._

_Daryl rolled his eyes and coughed to get their attention. They both stopped and looked at him, Murphy still grinning like a lunatic. "Well, if it isn't my doppelganger," he laughed._

_Daryl and Connor both scolded at him as Connor tightened his hold on his sibling._

_"Mother fucker, Conn. Ease up a bi' will ya?"_

_"No' till you learn some manners, lil' brother," Connor said. More Irishmen?_

_"Fuck you, you're no' the oldest. And I'm sure he can take some light teasin'.'Cept that scowl of his is pretty frightin'. Am I really that ugly?" Murphy laughed._

_"Manners, ya lil' bastard." Connor let Murphy out of the hold and shoved him forwards, kicking him in the ass. "An' no Murphy, you're way uglier than him."_

_Daryl found himself trying to hold back a grin. Stop it! He crossed his arms and deepened his scowl as Connor turned towards him._

_"Sorry abou' him. He usually shuts up if ya ignore 'im long enough. He's just upset 'cause he used ta think he was the hottest thin' here, now he knows he's got some competition." The blonde grinned at him._

_Daryl felt a blush rise in his cheeks, but he willed it down. Now was not the time._

_"Name's Connor. The moron over there is me brother, Murphy," Connor nodded over at Murphy._

_"Daryl," Daryl muttered._

_Connor nodded. "Nice to meet ya lad. You got any questions about this?"_

_Daryl shook his head. "No. Just show me what to do and leave me be."_

_Surprisingly, Connor didn't get offended. He just shrugged and led Daryl over to an empty station. "So, wha' you're gonna be doin', is trimin'. Ya just get as much fat off the thin' as ya can and then send it on down the line. You ever worked with meat like this before?"_

_"What do I look like, a fuckin' moron?" Daryl growled, looking at a spot over the Irishman's shoulder. He couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. "Used to hunt. Always had to clean my own kill."_

_Connor laughed at that and Daryl found his eyes straying to the blonde at the sound. It was loud and cheerful. The kind of laugh that when you heard it, you couldn't help but smile. "Kinda figured ya for a recheck. You look and sound the type."_

_Daryl sneered at the still cackling man. "Go Fuck yourself ya fuckin' Mick."_

_Connor held up his hands in surrender. "I didn' mean anything by it, lad. I'm jus' havin' a laugh. I'll leave ya to it. If ya need me, I'll be just there." He pointed over his shoulder as he started to walk backwards. He shot Daryl another grin before joining his brother._

_Daryl turned around and shut his eyes, taking in a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn't move his eyes away from those blues when the Irishman laughed. How they crinkled at the corners and shone even brighter. He shook his head. He had forced himself to stop thinking that way a long time ago, and he was not going to start again just because of a pair of eyes._

_So, to distract himself, Daryl got to work. He picked up his first slab of meat and, after placing it on the hook, began to trim. He had already made his way through five slabs before he heard the blonde's voice again._

_"Murph, I mean it, lay off. He seems like the type to punch first and ask questions later. And if he does, I ain't gonna stop him."_

_"Oh come on, Conn. Ya know it's all in good fun. Besides, isn't he a bit weird? I mean, he looks just like me. He could probably murder me and steal me identity just like tha', and no one would ever know," the darker haired brother muttered._

_Connor laughed. Daryl felt himself shiver. "I don' think so, my dear brother. Why ta fuck would anyone wanna be you? You don' do much."_

_"Oh fuck you. I've got all kinds of people lining up jus' fer me. They love me," Murphy insisted._

_"Then where are they, all your adoring fans?"_

_Murphy chuckled. "Fuck ya. But really, I bet people are gonna confuse us. Everyone's gonna go up to him thinkin' he's me. It'll be weird."_

_"Nah. I don't think people are gonna get you mixed up. You're more hyper and loud, Murph. And look at 'im; He's all moody and quiet."_

_Daryl hated when people talked about him behind his back. So, without turning around, he called out, " You fuckers know I can hear you, right?"_

_He heard them scuffle and felt a small grin take over his face._

_"Look, I'm sorry."_

_The hunter turned around and saw Connor standing behind him. He shrugged and turned back towards his work. "World's full of shit talkers. Don't let it bother me."_

_Connor came up next to him. "Wasn't talkin' shit. We're poking fun. We do it to all the newbies. It's all in good fun. We don' mean no harm."_

_"Yeah, whatever," Daryl scoffed, braking a new piece of meat. He heard Connor walk back and said, "He was right though."_

_The blonde turned back towards Daryl. "Aye?"_

_Daryl nodded. "You're brother, he's at least got one fan. Up in the office."_

_He heard a snort that turned into a full blown laugh and looked back at the Irishman._

_Connor was bent over, laughing loudly with hands on his knees. Oh fuckin' Christ!" he wheezed, trying to take in a breath. "Patty thought you were Murphy?! How'd that go?"_

_Daryl shrugged. "I told her she looked like a horse."_

_That set Connor off again. Apparently, he thought she did too. "She thinks she needs a horse sized cock that's fer sure." He wiped at his eyes. "Thinks Murph's got one, but she don't know he's hung like a tic tac."_

_Just as he said that, a chunk of meat went flying and smacked the Irishman in the head. He whipped his head around and saw Murphy running towards him, so Connor ducked down and grabbed his brother around the waist, hoisting him up on his shoulder. Murphy started pounding at the blonde's back, but his grip never loosened, until he got to a table that held a tub full of cow tongues. He flung his brother down onto the table and started to beat him in the face with one, both of them laughing._

_Daryl couldn't fight the right smile growing on his own face as he looked around the plant, seeing that everyone had stopped to look at the brothers, all of them laughing as well. So this was what McGerkin meant by clowns. Maybe they wouldn't be as bad as he thought._

_"Alrigh', that's enough you two, you be had your fun. Now stop tha' shite and get back to work, you're burnin' money."_

_The brothers stopped their fighting and every head turned towards the top of the stairs where McGerkin stood with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Connor and Murphy saluted him and he just shook his head, turning to go back to his office._

_The Irishmen walked over to Daryl with matching grins, still bumping shoulders. It was like they couldn't stop shoving each other around._

_"So," Connor began, "ya like beer?"_

_The hunter raised an eyebrow. "You like potatoes?" He shot back._

_Murphy's grin widened. "Not as much as beer."_

_"We frequent this pub, McGinty's. We're headin' there later after work. Would ya like to join us?"_

_Daryl knew he should say no. Tell the blonde to go fuck himself. This man intrigued him way too much, but it was for the same reason, that he found himself agreeing. And when he saw that smile again, was when he knew he was well and truly fucked._

Daryl rubbed his eyes as he came out of his memories. He could remember every dream down to the last detail, but he could never remember the blue eyed man. Only the eyes. That was the only thing that would stick. He remembered his brother, Murphy. He saw him often enough in his dreams, but not in every one. Blue Eyes though, he was a constant. There was never a night that went by that he didn't see those eyes. And he still couldn't figure out why. 

The only other thing that he knew for sure, was that the man he dreamed about was Irish. He could remember Murphy's accent clear as day so he knew they were micks. Daryl guessed that was why he kept the clabber ring. He had found it in his pocket after he woke up from his bar fight when he went to peel off his bloody clothes. He had starred at the thing, wondering why it brought tears to his eyes just looking at it. He had put it on his bedside table when he went to bed that night and when he had awoken from that first dream, he couldn't part with it. The dreams were better than reality, so he wore it around his neck and clutched it when he wanted happier images in his head than what was around him. 

The hunter saw movement out of the corner of his eye and gripped his crossbow. Looking out the window, he saw it was Rick. Having noticed Daryl was awake, he motioned for him to join the group huddled around the map. 

Daryl felt anger rise in his chest. Anger at himself. How could he forget about Sophia? That's why they were still in this God forsaken highway, to find her. She had gotten spooked by a couple of walkers yesterday and had run off. Rick had gone after her and had hidden her as he led the walkers that were chasing her away, but when they got back to her hiding spot, she was gone. Daryl had been able to track her for a while, but they had lost the daylight and were forced to pick the search back up at first light. 

The hunter knew he would not stop until she was found. He would not let her stay out there, scared out of her mind. He would find her and bring her back to Carol. He had left Merle, he would not leave her too. 

Pushing the dreams to the back of his mind, Daryl climbed out of the car. Slinging his crossbow across his back, he made his way to the group as they formulated a plan. 


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl felt pride well up in his chest as he saw the sheath roll out across the hood of the truck. He couldn't believe that the kid, Carl, had found them, but he was immensely impressed. 

The plan was to pick up on the trail where they had left off the night before. Sophia couldn't have gone far and it would be easier to find her with almost everybody looking for her. Dale and T-Dog would stay behind. Dale was still working on the R.V., trying to get it running again and T-Dog was to watch his back while he was working. They were also there in case Sophia made her way back to the interstate.

"Everybody takes a weapon," Rick told the group.

Daryl was glad that Rick had taken charge, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. At least a lot better than Shane's.

"These aren't the kind of weapons we need," Andrea said, hands on her hips. "What about the guns?"

Andrea had just lost her sister in an attack that had taken nearly half of the original group, so Daryl could understand her attitude. But, lately, it had been getting worse. She glared daggers at everyone and screamed at them when they got too close. 

"We've been over that," Shane said, double checking his rifle. "Daryl, Rick and I are carrying. Can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles."

Daryl had never told anybody, but he knew about Shane and Lori, Rick's wife. You'd have to be blind not to see it. Shane maybe acted like he was happy that his best friend was back, but Daryl knew better. He saw the hatred in Shane's eyes whenever he looked at Rick. Saw the demon rise up. Daryl was just waiting for the fire. 

"It's not the trees I'm worried about," Andrea snarked. 

"Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, herd happens to be passing by. Then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it." Shane smirked at Andrea before turning his back to her. Andrea glared at him and grabbed a machete from the roll.

Daryl was getting real sick of her shit. He knew how she was feeling; He'd lost his brother too, but right now all he cared about was finding Sophia. He placed all of his focus and rage on finding her, but it seemed that all Andrea wanted to do was prove to everyone that she wasn't weak. Daryl really wanted to tell her to get steppin' if that was all she cared about. There was a little girl out there, alone and scared. There was no time for that type of bullshit. 

"The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around, come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek. That's our only landmark," Daryl explained, looking around at everyone, making sure they understood. 

Sophia's trail hadn't been that far from the creek. Daryl was confident he could find it again.

"Stay quiet. Stay sharp. Keep space between you, but always withing sight of each other." Rick ruffled his son's hair as he turned converse with Dale. 

When Daryl heard that Carl was going to come with the search party, he was not pleased. They already had one kid lost out there, they didn't need two. Especially since Lori tended to watch Shane more than her own son. 

Just as Daryl was about to tell everyone that it was time to head out, he heard Andrea bitching again. This time at Dale. Ever since the incident at the C.D.C., Andrea had hated Dale. She wanted to stay and die, but he couldn't let her do that just out of grief. Daryl could tell that Dale loved her like she was his own. That's why he decided to stay with her. If she went, so did he. Now, Andrea was telling him that the only reason why she left was so that she didn't have his blood on her hands. Telling him that he took her choice to die away. 

"I'm not your little girl. I'm not your wife and I am sure as hell not your problem."

Daryl had never wanted to hit someone so much before those words flew out of her mouth. All Dale ever did was care and it was getting thrown back in his face. But, Daryl couldn't worry about that right now. They needed to find Sophia. 

Daryl looked down at the ring hanging around his neck, caressing it with his fingers. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it lightly, knowing that it would bring him good luck. He gripped it tightly before slipping it back underneath his shirt and slung his crossbow across his back as he followed the group into the woods. 

Daryl took point, Rick behind him as Shane covered the back. He'd be damned if he let a walker try to tare this group up again. Just a few yards into the forest, Daryl spotted a campsite. He instantly got down and motioned for the others to do the same. He wanted them to stay out of sight in case there was anyone there. 

While the rest got down behind some bushes, Shane walked up to the front and stood right in the line of sight. Daryl secretly hoped he'd get shot. "She could be in there."

"Could be a whole bunch of things in there," Daryl said as he slowly made his way to the tent, crossbow at the ready. He motioned for Rick and Shane to stop as he got closer still, pulling out his knife and inching towards the opening. He couldn't see anything inside the tent and glanced at Rick, shrugging. 

Rick beckoned Carol over. "Call out softly,"Rick whispered when they were a few feet from the camp. "If she's in there, yours is the first voice she should hear."

Daryl stayed next to the tent, watching for any subtle movement. 

"Sophia?" Carol quietly called out. "Sophia, it's Mommy."

No response. No movement. 

"Sophia?" Carol called, a little louder. "We're all here baby. It's Mommy."

When still there was no reply, Rick motioned for Carol to stay where she was and made his way over to Daryl. 

Daryl slowly unzipped the flap and quickly pulled it back, instantly turning his head as the the smell of rotting flesh assaulted his nose. He gingerly stepped into the tent, checking to see if the source of the smell was a walker. It wasn't. Just a man who had shot himself. He breathed out a sigh of relief and looked around for anything useful. 

"Daryl?"

Daryl found a revolver clutched in the dead man's hand and decided it was the only thing worth taking. 

"Daryl?" Carol called out again as he shoved the gun in the back of his pants. 

"Ain't her," he said as he stepped out. Daryl knee he had disappointed Carol, but it wasn't his fault. He was trying. 

"Who was in there?"Andrea asked as the group stepped closer after been given the all clear. 

"Some guy. Did what Jenner said." Daryl picked up his crossbow. "Opted out. Ain't that what he called it?" 

Just then, they heard church bells ringing in the distance. Determining which direction they were coming from, the group took off. Running in between trees and jumping over roots until the came to a small graveyard surrounding a church. 

"That can't be it," Shane gasped, catching his breath. "Got no steeples, no bells- Rick!"

Rick took off, Daryl hot on his heals. Daryl knew there was someone in there. He could feel it. 

Running towards the building, Daryl felt his heart speed up and he palms get sweaty. This was it. They were going to find her. The paused at the steps leading up to the Ted double doors. Daryl thought it was fitting. All life had been lately was bloody tilde wave. He couldn't even walk through his beloved woods anymore without the threat of death looming over his shoulder. 

As Rick and Daryl took positions on opposite sides of my the door, Daryl took in a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Rick put a finger to his lips, shushing everybody as he nodded at Daryl and slowly, they pushed the doors open. 

The first thing Daryl noticed when he walked inside were the three walkers sitting in the pews like they were waiting for mass to begin. He brought his crossbow up and took aim, waiting for them to move. When they didn't, he swung his crossbow to his back and took out his knife, moving closer with careful footsteps. 

As he drew near to the first walker, a woman wearing what was once a Sunday dress with a viel covering her face, he noticed that she had a stab wound on the back of her head. He looked up at Rick and Glenn, who had followed them inside, to confirm that the others were dead too, when he saw Rick had his gun trained on something else. He turned his head to see a lone figure in middle of the isle,kneeling in front of hanging cross with his head bowed low. 

Daryl instantly took up his crossbow and aimed it for the strangers head. He made his way around the pews and stalked up the isle without taking his sights off the stranger. He was almost right behind the man when his foot hit a squeaky bored. He stopped and cursed himself when he saw the man freeze.

Daryl waited with his finger on the trigger as he stared at the back of the stranger's head. He noticed that the man had dark blonde hair, spiked up towards the top of his head. Something about the color was tickling at the back of his mind, but he couldn't figure out why.

The blonde spun around on his knees, taking Daryl by surprise. Pointing two berettas right at his head while Daryl had his sights trained right between the eyes- Those eyes. 

Daryl felt his own eyes widen as he took in the cerulean blues. Every night, those same eyes haunted his dreams. Made him feel love, passion and safety. Those beautiful blues he always got lost in. 

The blue eyed man began to tremble, guns falling from his hands as he took in Daryl's features. His hands lifted to press against his mouth. Eyes filled with tears, he slowly rose, Daryl's crossbow still pointed at him. His hands slide from his mouth as he let out a small sob.

"Daryl?" He asked in a small voice, Irish accent cracking. 

And as Daryl looked at him, he felt his heart scream out for this man. Heard his head chant one simple thing; A name.

Connor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any translations that will be in this story will be at the end of the chapters. And, if there is anything wrong with please let me know. I'm using Google Translate, so if you find something wrong, tell me and I will fix it.

Daryl stared in disbelief at the blonde. This couldn't be the man from his dreams.they were just that; Dreams. This man wasn't real. 

He watched as a watery smile took over the man's face and he let out a sob that could've been a laugh. "Daryl, is that you?"

Daryl hid his trembling hands by tightening his grip in his crossbow. That voice had never failed to send shivers down his spine. He was real. The man he saw every night, that he wished with all of his heart was real, was standing right in front of him. And he knew Daryl. But, why didn't Daryl know him?

Daryl felt movement on his shoulder and he quickly darted his eyes away from the blonde to see Rick next to him with his revolver out, pointed at the Irishman. Daryl suppressed a growl. He felt this surge of protectiveness rise in his chest. But he knew he couldn't move. He stood vigilant as Rick tried to take control. He needed answers. 

"Who are you?" Rick demanded, gun study on the man's head

But the Irishman payed him no mind, he only had eyes for Daryl. Daryl could see his smile begin to fade as confusion took over. "Daryl, it's me. It's Connor." Connor took a step forward, reaching out to touch the hunter.

Daryl took a step back and screamed at himself when I look of pure devastation washed over Connors face.

Rick took a step closer to the blonde, gun still trained on him. "I'm not going to ask again. Who are you?"

"You best answer boy," Shane said, rifle leve with Connors chest. "Ain't gonna bother me none if every Walker within a hundred miles hears the bullet I put right between your eyes."

Daryl wanted to take his crossbow and smash the butt of it against Shane's face. He didn't even know this man, but he knew he would kill him if Shane touched him.

Connor didn't even glance at either Rick or Shane. Those blue pool still watch Daryl. "Please, Daryl. You have to know me. We've known each other for three years. Daryl, please."

Daryl kept his features in his signature scowl, hiding his emotions, before lowering his crossbow. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know who you are." But he wished he did.

The gut-wrenching sob that Conner let out made Daryl flinch as agony tore through his chest. He lunged at Daryl, trying to throw his arms around him, only to be caught by Rick and Shane. "No!" he shouted, tears running freely down his cheeks. He struggled against the two men, trying to get to Daryl. "Daryl, you know me! It's Connor! Baby, ich bin's. Du kennst mich. Bitte, erinnere dich an mich. Ich liebe dich."

Daryl's eyes went wide. Just like in his dream the other night, he understood what Connor was saying. Every word. 

Connor sagged against the former policeman when he took in Daryl's, carefully applied, blank look. He sobbed as he whispered in a hoarse voice, "I love you, Daryl."

As those words left his mouth, Daryl felt a sharp, stabbing sensation in his skull and he saw the memory of a dream he'd had, just before the world went to hell;

_Daryl woke up slowly to sounds of early morning South Boston; People shouting, horns blaring, loud music being played somewhere on the sidewalk. Nothing unusual. He let out an amused huff as he felt the warm weight on his chest shift and a deep groan slip out of still kiss bitten lips._

_"You know wha' the loudest thing back in Ireland was this early in the mornin'?"_

_Daryl grinned. He loved hearing the Irishman's accent in the morning, still deep and rough with slumber. He ran his fingers through the blonde hair tickling his chin, letting out a chuckle as the blonde snuggled deeper into his chest, tucking his head underneath the hunters chin. "What's that?"_

_"Fuckin' sheep," Connor growled, planting light kisses along Daryl's collarbone._

_Daryl laughed and leaned down to whisper into Connor's ear, "Baaah."_

_Connor lifted himself up to see Daryl. Arms braced on either side of his head, a broad smile covering his face. "Definitely the sexiest sheep I've ever laid eyes on."_

_The hunter watch Connor's grin morph into an affectionate smile as he slid his hand around the back of the blonde's neck, pulling him down for a deep, lazy kiss. Connor rested his hand on Daryl chest, feeling this steady beating of his heart under his palm as Daryl's tongue slowly plundered his mouth. Daryl sunk his teeth into Connor's plump bottom lip, groaning low in his throat at the keen that left the irishman's mouth._

_Connor pulled away, resting his forehead against Daryl's, sharing the breath they panted into each other's mouths. "You know wha' my favorite thin' about you is?"_

_"Hmmmm?" Daryl rested his head back against his pillow, staring up at sapphire eyes._

_"Your smile." Connor traced Daryl's lower lip with his thumb, palm cupping his cheek. "When we first met, you didn't smile that often. So, I cherish every one I see."_

_Daryl didn't fight the smile taking over his face. Connor was the only one he'd ever dropped his guard for. He'd never been able to open up to anyone until he met the blonde. He couldn't imagine the hell his life would become without this man right beside him. He grabbed his hand and kiss his knuckles. "You know my favorite thing about you?" he murmured against pale skin._

_"Wha'?" Connor asked, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards._

_"Your eyes," Daryl whispered. He brought himself up into a sitting position, pulling Connor into his naked lap, one arm wrapped around the blondes waist while the other hand played with the little hairs on the back of his neck. Connor's own arms came up around Daryl's neck. "Your eyes were the first thing that drew me to you. I've never seen eyes as beautiful as yours. So blue, like the deepest ocean. So pure, like your heart." He lightly ran his fingers over the Virgin Mary tattoo, feeling the pulse fluttering there. "I'll never get tired of getting lost in them."_

_A tear escaped Connor's eyes as he surged forward , pressing his mouth against the hunter's, fingers gripping tightly at the dark locks. Daryl matched his enthusiasm, slipping his tongue past parted lips, he explored the warm, wet cavern that was Connor's mouth. He loved the way he tasted, like cigarettes and coffee with a touch of whiskey underneath. Sweet, but with a bite._

_"Daryl," Conner gasped, pulling away. He met Daryl's eyes, gaze unwavering. "I love you."_

_Daryl's own eyes widened. "What?"_

_"I love you. How could I no'. You are so strong and caring. You don' take any shit.  You put up with Murph and me everyday. You're everything I need. Everything I've ever wanted." Connor cupped his face in his hands, conveying how serious he was. "I love you, Daryl Dixon."_

_Daryl push his forehead against Connor's again. He loved him. Connor loved him. He had waited so long to hear those words and even longer to say them. He wanted to scream it to the heavens, how much he loved this man in his arms. "Fuck, Connor. I love you, too."_

_"Yeah?" A breath taking smile took over the blonde's features. His eyes lighting up._

_Daryl nodded. "For so long, baby." He brought their lips back together, sealing their declaration with a kiss that took both their breath away. And Daryl  knew it, in his heart, that he would never let this man go._

Daryl blink rapidly as the pain in his head subsided and the vision faded. He looked back a Rick to see him and Shane still struggling against the blonde. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him close, but he couldn't. He could never make sense of his dreams and now, out of nowhere, this man just shows up, claiming to know him? He'd never been one to easily trust. 

"Daryl, I love you!" Connor shouted, giving one strong push to his captors, freeing himself from their grasp. He rushed over to Daryl, arms outstretched and tear tracks down his face, but before he got close to the hunter, Daryl's fist flew back and implanted itself right in the irishman's face, knocking him out cold.

"What the hell was that?" Rick demanded, rushing over to the unconscious man, checking his pulse. "He said he knew you. That you know him. Who the hell is he?"

"I- I don't know," Daryl stammered, looking down at his uncurled fist in disbelief. He didn't mean to hit Connor. It was just a reflex. 

Shane grabbed his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle. "The fuck you mean 'you don't know'?" 

Daryl glared at the man, shoving him off. "I don't know! I don't remember him," he growled.

"You definitely know him, Daryl," Rick said. 

Daryl's glare strayed from Shane and landed on his leader. Rick held an open wallet in his hand with a beat up looking Polaroid held close to his face, examining it.

"Let me see that." Shane snatched the picture from Rick's hand, storming back up to Daryl. "You sure you don't know him?"

"I already fucking said I don't. Never seen him before in my life. Take the fucking rocks out of your ears." Daryl crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, he sure as fuck knows you, Dixon. And apparently, you're twin, too." Shane shoved the photograph at Daryl's chest, aiming his rifle at the stirring blonde.

Daryl clenched his jaw as he glanced at the photo, breath catching in his chest as he took in the image. Standing in front of a crowded bar, was Connor, Daryl and Murphy, Connors twin brother. Connor was in between the two, arms thrown around both their shoulders, grin on his face and cigarette dangling from his lips. On Connors right was Murphy, smiling big and happily as he raised a shot glass. Daryl was on Connors left, arm wrapped possessively around his waist and a small smile graced his lips. Daryl turned the picture over, finding a message scrolled on the back; _Murphy, Connor and Daryl. St. Patrick's Day 2004._

"I told ya."

Daryl ripped his gaze away from the picture, staring at the blonde sitting on the small stage, piercing blue eyes gazing at him with fear and love. 

"Ya know me, Daryl."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby, ich bin's- Baby, it's me.  
> Du kennst mich - You know me.  
> Bitte, erinnere dich an mich - Please, remember me.  
> Ich liebe dich - I love you.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, Connor," Rick said, crouching in front of the man. His revolver was no longer pointed at him, but still held threateningly. "There a last name to go with the first?"

Connor rubbed his face, wiping away the tears tracks along as cheeks. "MacManus," he mumbled, digging in the pocket of his peacoat for cigarettes.

"MacManus?" Shane asked, snatching the Polaroid from Daryl lax hands, making his way over to Rick's side. "That's your brother, ain't it? Not Daryl's. He turned it over, reading the names on the back. "Connor and Murphy MacManus. Those names sound familiar to you, Rick?"

A look of confusion passed over Rick's face. "MacManus, for sure. Where have I heard that name?"

"The Saints." Shane pointed at Connor. "You guys were the Saints of South Boston."

Connor nodded, turning his head as he blew the smoke out of his lungs. "Aye, we were tha'."

"The Saints?" A smile grew on Rick's face as he stored his gun back in its holster. "It's an honor. Our whole Precinct was a big fan of you guys. Name's Rick Grimes." He nodded his head toward Shane. "That there's Shane Walsh." He held his hand out to Connor.

Connor stubbed out his smoke and shook the offered hand. "Nice to meet ya lads."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened-"

The Irishman waved him off, getting to his feet and grabbing his Berettas, shoving them in his thigh holsters. "Don' be. I get it. I've had my run-ins with some unsavory characters, you're jus' protectin' your group." He grabbed his pack sitting on the front pew, sliding his arms through the straps. He then picked up a quiver full of arrows and secured it around his waist, grabbing up a large compound bow, letting it dangle loosely from his hand.

Shane whistled. "That's a beautiful bow. It's a Scorcher, right?" he nodded at the flames decorating said bow.

"Tha' it is." Connor's eyes found Daryl's and bore into them as he said, "It was a gift."

"You guys have been in here forever, Carol's getting restless. We need to go."

Everyone turned towards the entrance of the church as a woman with long, dark hair came storming in. Her eyes widened as she took in the unfamiliar face. "You found a survivor? Why didn't you say anything?"

Rick rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry hun," he grumbled. "Connor, this is my wife, Lori. Lori, this is Connor, an old friend of Daryl's."

"I told ya'll, I don't know this fucking mick."

Connor flinched at his words as he watched Daryl stomp outside. 

"Who seems to have no memory of you. whatsoever." Shane said, staring down the blonde. 

Connor met his stare head on, not backing down. 

"Lay off, Shane," Rick said, pushing the former deputy back when he got too close.

"What? You don't think it's weird? This guy has proof that he knew Daryl, but Daryl says he don't know him. So, either he did something that really pissed him off, or-"

"Or, he has amnesia," Lori tossed in.

Connor's head lifted at that. That would explain so much. It definitely explained why Daryl's eyes seemed to have recognition in them when he looked at the Irishman, but his face still held confusion. 

"Rick?"

Rick looked up to see Carol, standing in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her. "Can we continue searching?" she asked in a small voice.

Rick squeezed his eyes shut, disappointment welling within him. "We're going right now, Carol. Sorry this took so long."

Carol nodded and headed back outside. Lori followed her, shooting one last look at the three men before trudging down the steps.

"Search?" Connor asked, grip tightening on his compound. "Are ya missin' someone?"

"Carol's daughter," Rick said, hands gripping the back of the pew. "She got chased by a couple of walkers yesterday, haven't been able to find her."

"Yeah, and we won't," Shane mumbled. 

"Shane-"

"No, Rick," Shane said, a hard look in his eyes. "She has been out there all night. She's twelve. She ain't got the resources to survive out there. Carol needs to accept the fact that she's gone. We need to get to Fort Benning, and all this searching is just wasting time we don't have."

"You shut your fuckin' mouth!"

Shane and Rick stared at the Irishman, not expecting the outburst.

"We  are no' leavin' 'till we find this girl. Ya understand me?" Connor growled.

"We?" Rick asked.

"Aye, we. I canno' let a defenseless girl stay ou' there with all those hell spawn roaming around. So I'm gonna help ya. Then, if you wan', I'm gone. But, we find her first." With that, Connor made his way outside, grumbling to himself.

Rick turned to Shane. "Shane-"

"I don't wanna fucking hear it, Rick," Shane grumbled, turning his back and leaving the church.

Rick exhaled a deep breath. He can't believe Shane sometimes. There was once a time when Shane cared about the well-being of every person he saw on the street, now he wouldn't even give two minutes to find a child. What had happened to his best friend?

He was glad for the extra help from Connor though. It saddened him to see the newcomer so distraught. Having found someone from his past in this nightmare was cause for celebration, not misery and tears. What had happened for Daryl to forget someone who obviously loved him so much? As Rick went to rejoin his group, he vowed that after Sophia was found, he would help try to get Daryl's memories back. Besides, everyone deserved a second chance at love. He got his after all.


	6. Chapter 6

"I told ya it was the wrong church, Rick," Shane said as Rick came outside. "It ain't got no steeples. No bells." As Shane said that, the bells went off, making the group rush around to the side of the church where they found a speaker and electrical box.

Connor was the first to arrive, so he quickly opened the box and yanked out the wires, silencing it.

"A timer," Daryl wheezed, relief rushing through him as the loud noises stopped penetrating his skull. "It's on a timer."

Connor turned around to see uncertainty etched into unfamiliar faces. "Who the hell is this?" Andrea asked, grip tightening on her machete as she took a threatening step forward.

Connor raised his eyebrow and tried not to laugh. This woman looked as frightening as a bunny rabbit.

"This is Connor." Rick stepped in between Andrea and the Irishman. "He was inside the church. Says he would like to help us in our search."

"How do you know he's not dangerous?" Andrea asked.

Connor was just about to reply when he heard Daryl's voice. "If he was gonna hurt anyone he woulda done it by now. Don't get your fuckin' panties in a twist." He caught Daryl's eye and offered a small smile of gratitude. Daryl just scoffed and turned his back, hand rubbing at his forehead as a new spike of pain shot through his head. 

Connor knew he was going to have to be patient with Daryl. He would try to keep his distance from the gruff hunter and try to get him to open up again. He hadn't seen Daryl this angry since they first met and it had taken months to get him to really trust Connor enough to share who he really was. Even though he didn't remember the Irishman, Connor would try to get him to let go of his anger once again. He was just glad he had found his hunter, the rest could come later.

"Connor?"

The blonde's head snapped up as Rick called his name. 

"Aye?" He walked over towards the group and Rick started up introductions, pointing everyone out.

"That's Andrea and Glenn. And this is my son, Carl." Rick ruffled his son's hair.

Connor kneeled down and offered the boy his hand. "Nice to meet ya there, Carl. A strappin' young lad like yourself mus' be out here makin' sure his ma don' get hurt. You're protectin' her, aren't you?"

Carl's mouth morphed into a proud smile and his chest puffed out. "Yeah, nothing's going to get her while me and my dad are here."

Lori laughed, wrapping an arm around her son. "Oh you don't have to worry about me, I hide behind these two." She squeezed Carl to her side and shot a smile at Rick.

Connor saw Carl's smile drop as he tried to get out of his mother's hold. "Is somethin' troublin' ya, lad?"

Carl bit his lip and nodded before replying. "I'm worried about my friend. She got lost and were trying to find her. I was really hoping she'd be in there, but we're going to keep looking. I know we'll find her."

Connor smiled and placed his bow on the ground, shrugging his backpack off his shoulders. "Oh, I have no doubts there. No' with you lookin' for her, but you know, my ma always taugh' me something; She taugh' me tha' any worry can be chased away with food." He rummaged around his pack and, with a triumphant grin, pulled out a granola bar. He watched Carl's eyes light up at the sight of it. "Here. This'll put your worries to rest."

Carl started to reach for it, but quickly pulled his hand back at his mother's stern look. "Thank you mister, but it's yours. I can't take it."

Connor shook his head and grabbed Carl's hand, placing the treat in his palm and closing his fingers around it. "Chase the worries away, lad. We'll find her. I promise you."

Carl nodded keeping the bar clenched tightly in his grasp.

"Now, you go and enjoy tha'. Keep up your strength," Connor said, pulling on his backpack and grabbing up his bow again, rising to his feet.

Carl grinned and took off, Lori not far behind after she shot a disapproving look at Rick. 

The blonde turned back to Rick, looking past his shoulder as he saw Daryl watching him. His arms were crossed over his chest and his face set in a deep scowl, but Connor could see a light in his eyes. A light he never thought he'd see again. Daryl quickly turned his back when he saw he was caught staring and stomped to the other side of the church. Leaning against the wall, he took in a shuddering breath.

Every time he looked at the blonde, all he wanted to do was gather him in his arms and hold on tight. The phantom feeling of the man in his arms assaulted him every time he woke up. Hr was scared of what all of it meant. Dreaming about him for five years and then finding him was too much to comprehend, so he lashed out. He was drawn to this man, but he wouldn't allow himself to be. He would keep pushing until this all went away.

Daryl pushed himself away from the building and rounded to the front, eyes catching on the blonde again as he and Rick exchanged words. 

"Thanks for that," Rick said, gazing fondly after his family. 

Connor shrugged, adjusting the grip on his bow. "Could see his hope waverin' a bit. Jus' wanted to restore his faith."

Rick clapped him on the shoulder. "I'd say you did a fine job of it, too."

Connor shrugged again, stamping down his pride as he took in the distraught look on Carol's face. He nodded towards her. "That's Carol, right?"

Rick turned to see Carol staring up at the church, tears in her eyes. He pulled on Connor shoulder, gesturing him to follow, leading him to the broken woman. "Carol," he said cautiously. She turned towards the two men, managing a small smile that was more of a grimace. "Carol, this is Connor."

Connor lightly took Carol's hand, kissing her knuckles tenderly. "A pleasure, ma'am."

She let out a light laugh as daryl watched on, tramping down the jealousy rising inside his chest. "Don't call me ma'am. I'm not that old."

"Oh darlin', you don' look a day over thirty." Connor grinned, winking.

Carol let a genuine smile tug at her lips at Connor's antics. She had not smiled like that in a long time.

The Irishman took both of Carol's hands in his as his grin dropped. "It's your daughter that's missin' isn' it?"

Carol's face fell. She turned back towards the church and stared up at it, almost like she was trying to burn it to the ground with her eyes.

"Carol"? Connor asked, worry lacing his voice.

Without looking at him, Carol pulled her hands out of Connor's and made her way up the steps. "I'm gonna go back in for a bit," she said, walking through the double doors.

Connor watched her with sad eyes. He knew what she was feeling. He glanced at Rick and followed Carol into the building. She was looking up at Jesus on the cross, muttering to herself, oblivious to his presence. He gently laid his pack and bow on the floor, making careful steps towards her. "Father, forgive me," he heard her whisper. "I don't deserve Your mercy."

"Everyone deserves His mercy," Connor said, making Carol jump and quickly turn to face him. 

She shook her head. "Not me. I prayed for safe passage from Atlanta, He provided. My husband, Ed, I prayed for him to be punished." At Connor's confusion, she said, "He was abusive."

Connor felt his blood boil. If that bastard wasn't dead, he'd kill him himself. 

"I wanted him to be punished for laying his hands on me, and for looking at his own daughter with whatever sickness was growing inside him." Carol let the tears fall down her face as Connor stepped forward and hugged her. No man should ever lay hands on a woman, or look after a child, especially his own, with lust in his heart. "I prayed He'd put a stop to it, give me a chance to raise her right. Help her not make my mistakes," she sobbed into his chest.

Connor started rubbing her back as he made soothing noises, trying to comfort the grieving mother. He led her over to one of the pews and sat down, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Our camp was attacked by walkers a few nights ago," Carol continued. "Ed didn't make it."

Connor felt a 'good riddance' on the tip of his tongue, but held it back. He needed to let Carol get everything out if she was going to start to heal.

"I prayed for his death. I knew it was a sin, but I prayed He would end his life. This is my punishment. My little girl is lost because of what I did." Carol didn't hold back her sobs as Connor pulled her into his arms again, holding back tears of his own.

He refused to believe that God would punish this wonderful woman for just trying to protect her child. He would not let this continue. "Carol," he said, lifting her head up to meet his eyes, "God does no' punish people like you. You prayed for the death of a monster, no' a man. A man wouldn' make you fear him. A man would have protected you and your child."

Carol nodded, wiping her tears away. Connor held onto her hands tightly, making sure she understood him. "You have so much love in tha' heart of yours and all ya do is use it for protection. He's gone now. You will be so much stronger withou' him and when we find your daughter, you will teach her wha' it means to be as courageous as you are."

Carol shook her head. "I'm not strong or courageous," she muttered. "If I was, I would have left Ed years ago."

"But you kep' him away from her," Connor insisted. "You made sure he never touched her you took everythin' so she didn't have to. Tha' makes you strong in my book, and in His." He pointed up to the sky. "God wouldn' dare punish you."

Carol threw her arms around the Irishman, holding him tight. "Thank you," she whispered. 

"I will help you find her," Connor vowed. "You will see her again." Carol nodded against his shoulder.

"Hey, guys?"

Connor turned his head to find Glenn standing awkwardly at the door. "The group's getting ready."

Carol pulled out of Connor's embrace nodding at Glenn. "Thank you, Glenn. We'll be right there."

Glenn nodded back, heading back to the group to see what the plan was.

Connor placed his hand on Carol's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Ya goin' to be okay?"

She offered him a small smile. "I think I will be."

Connor flashed her a smile of his own and held out his arm, escorting her towards the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone else just sobbing and can't stop? We lost not one, but two of our beloved characters and it's killing me. I was writing this chapter last night and couldn't even finish it after I found out what happened. Finished it now though, but it still hurts. Anyone else feel my pain? Hopefully, there's enough of Connor being his sweet self to counteract the negativity everybody's feeling.


	7. Chapter 7

Everyone was gathered underneath the biggest tree in the cemetery, trying to shield themselves from the blistering Georgia sun, watching Rick and Shane discuss there next move. Daryl leaned against the bark of the tree, crossbow strap held tightly in his iron grip, as he watched Connor out of the corner of his eye. He took in the Irishman's muscular physique as he shrugged off the heavy pea coat, rolling it up to stuff in his pack. He rose his arms to the sky, stretching, dark grey shirt ridding up as Daryl caught a glimpse of washboard abs. The hunter lifted his eyes to see a light blush decorating the blonde's cheeks as he caught Daryl staring yet again. He quickly averted his gaze, fighting down a blush of his own as Shane walked up to the group.

Shane cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head as he stalked up to where everyone was gathered. Both Daryl and Connor could tell he didn't like what he was about to say. 

"Ya'll gonna follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you're in charge." He grimaced. "Me and Rick, we're just gonna hang back, search this area another hour or so just to be thorough."

"You're splittin' us up," Daryl stated. Not a question. He had a bad feeling welling up in the pit of his stomach. He didn't like the idea of anyone going off alone right now. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Shane heaved a sigh. "We'll catch up to you."

"I wanna stay too."

Every head turn towards Carl as he spoke up. Daryl felt his bad feeling intensify. He darted a glance over to Connor, and by the grimace he was sporting, knew he also didn't feel comfortable with this. He didn't know why he wanted to know what the blonde was feeling, but he knew it felt right to get a second opinion from him. He squashed down the feeling quickly. He didn't care what the mick thought or felt and he cursed his subconscious that kept throwing those feelings at him.

"I'm her friend." Carl grinned up at his father, knowing he wouldn't say no. He wanted to explore and find his friend, also find out why Shane seemed so angry with him.

Neither Rick, nor Shane, answered him, but everyone was shocked when it was, Lori who gave her blessing. Everyone felt the tension between Lori and Shane ever since Rick got back. They heard her scream at him a few times, but she was always magically by his side whenever Rick wasn't watching.

"Here," Rick held his revolver out to his wife. "Take this. You remember how to use it?"

"I'm not gonna take your gun and leave you unarmed."

"I got a spare." Daryl fished out the gun he had taken from the body in the tent and handed it to Lori. He had his crossbow and his knife, he didn't have much use for one anyway.

She smiled her gratitude at the hunter. Connor felt himself smiling as well. His Daryl was starting to peek through. Generosity was the first thing that showed back then, too. He could tell the walls were being slowly chipped away and knew it was only a matter of time before his hunter was back.

Connor whirled around as he heard a twig snap behind him, gun already in hand and raised at the intruder. 

"Whoa, easy there cowboy," Shane said, arms raised in surrender. "Just me."

Connor said the Beretta back into its holster, grabbing his pack of smokes out of his back pocket and lighting one. 

"You got some quick reflexes there," Shane commented, lowering his arms. "Why do you have a bow when you got those?"

He turned his head as he exhaled. Shrugging, he said, "No' much ammo to be found nowadays. Found a shit ton of arrows in a Military Surplus before we lef' Boston to come down here. Known how to shoot for a few years now, figured it be better in the long run. Guns are only used in case I ge' into a tigh' spo'."

"You a good shot with that?" Shane pointed to the compound bow hanging off Connor's shoulder. 

The blonde grinned and quickly stomped out his cigarette before pulling his bow off his shoulder and nocking an arrow in the blink of an eye. He pulled the arrow back and pointed it in the sky, letting it go after only a moment's hesitation. The group turned towards them as they heard a squawk and a thud, looking down to see a crow lying dead on the ground with an arrow but protruding out of it's belly. Connor looked pointedly at Shane. "Tha' good enough fer ya?"

Everyone looked at Connor in amazement. Daryl stood back, figure hidden behind the tree as he felt a warmth flare in his belly as he saw the confident way the Irishman handled his bow. He wondered how he got to be such a good shot.

A new pain sliced it's way through Daryl's temple. He clutched his head as he sunk to his knees, stifling the scream rising in his throat. 

_He saw himself and Connor standing in the woods, similar, but different to the ones they were in now. He was standing behind the blonde, arms wrapped around him, hands covering hands,showing him the proper way to hold the bow. He gripped Connor's hands tightly as they nocked the arrow and pulled it back together. Breathing in sync as Daryl whispered, "Let go." into Connor's ear. Arrow soaring through the air as they let go, embedding itself dead center in the trunk of the tree a hundred feet in front of them._

_Daryl smiled as Connor whooped with joy, pride welling up within him. His grip never loosened on the Irishman's hands as he looked back at the hunter, happiness making his eyes even brighter. And at that moment, Daryl knew he was completely and utterly in love with the man in his arms._

Daryl gasped as the pain slowly ebbed away, shakily getting to his feet. He leaned against the tree, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. He never dreamt about that. He had never once dreamt about teaching Connor how to shoot a bow. Could it be a memory? Was Connor actually telling the truth about Daryl knowing him and he had actually lost all memory of him?

Daryl shook the thoughts from his head. No, he must have dreamt about it, there was no other explanation. He glanced back at Connor, who was showing Carl how to nock an arrow. He took in his smile and laugh as Carl failed to get his fingers in the right position. His eyes rose up, finding Daryl's amongst the others, his grin softening into a loving smile as they held eye contact.

Daryl pushed back the tears he felt forming in his eyes at the strong wave of affection that crashed over him. He saw sadness and love in the other man's eyes and wished he could take away the sadness. Make that bright smile stay on his lips permanently.

With one last, lingering gaze at the blonde, Daryl turned his back and put some much-needed distance between them. He didn't have time for all these stupid emotions running through him. He had a job to do. He needed to find Sophia.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely ZombieIcePick. She is one of my most avid readers and I thank her from the bottom of my heart. And to anyone who reads this story and actually likes it, I say thank you as well. I know this thing could've been written so much better, but I never took creative writing in school, so I can't describe anything worth a shit. But, thank you to those of you who like this story and if you don't like it, too bad. I'm not making you read it. And I'm not gonna stop posting until it's done.

They had been walking through the woods for roughly twenty minutes. Daryl hadn't once looked back at Connor from his position up front. His eyes darted around, crossbow at the ready, in case anything jump out at them. He was trying to tune out the Irishman's brogue as he talked with Carol, offering her words of comfort. He extinguished the jealousy he felt burning inside of him as he noticed how close Connor and Carol had become right from the start. He knew he had no reason to feel like that. Connor was nothing to him.

Connor, on the other hand, couldn't keep his eyes off of the moody hunter. He spoke with Carol as a means of comfort for both himself and her. Carol was easy to talk to and a joy to be around. She was quick-witted and good-hearted. He hated the fear in her eyes; The fear that came from being an abused spouse. Every time he made a witty comment, Carol's eyes would shift, looking for someone that might hurt her for the retort she was about to make. Connor felt fury building up inside. Fury that he hadn't felt since that bastard, Merle, took Daryl away from him. He needed to calm himself down before he did something stupid.

"So, Connor," Lori said, offering him a reprieve from his thoughts. "How did you and Daryl meet?"

Everyone stopped and turned to stare at the blonde. Everyone but Daryl. He stopped and went rigid, back to the group.

"You know Daryl?" Glenn asked, stepping  closer. "Like, from before?"

Connor nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Aye. Tha' I do, lad."

"How many times do I have to tell you, you stupid mick?" Daryl turned his head to look back at Connor, gray eyes storming with anger. "I don't fuckin' know ya. Get that through your thick skull." He glared at the group. "Let's go. We're burning daylight."

They started moving again, Daryl way ahead of them as everyone gathered around Connor. "He seems pretty sure he doesn't know you," Andrea said, curiosity brimming. She'd had her eye on Daryl for a while and she wanted to know what it was about this man that got him so wound up.

"I think Daryl has amnesia," Lori said.

"What makes you say that?" Glenn asked.

"Shane said that Connor had proof that they knew each other."

Connor dug his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out the picture, holding it out for them all to see. He heard a gasp from Glenn and "Awww's," come from Lori and Carol. Andrea just squinted at the picture, trying to figure out why Daryl held him so close.

"Who's the guy that looks like Daryl?" Glenn asked. 

Connor smiled softly. "That's me brother, Murph."

"Where is he?" Carol asked.

He put the picture back in his wallet, hanging his head low as he felt a sadness wash over him. "I don' know. We go' separated abou' a month ago. I haven' been able to find him." He took a shaky breath. "But, I know he's alive."

"How do you know that?" Andrea asked, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. 

Lori glared at her. She was getting sick of Andrea's superior attitude.

Connor matched her expression and stance, fighting down a grin as he saw a look of annoyance mar her features. "We're twins, Murph an' me. If he was dead, I'd know."

Andrea scowled at him. "You don't know until they die right in front of you." She turned her back and marched away like a bratty five year old being sent to their room.

"She los' a sibling I take it?" Connor asked, watching her go.

Carol nodded. "Her little sister. Just a few days ago."

"She's just bitter because she tried to kill herself afterwards. Dale, one of our group, sees her as his daughter, so he stopped her. She's been like this ever since," Lori explained. She really wanted to knock some sense into that girl.

They all jumped in surprise as they heard a gunshot, looking around to see if anyone, or anything, was nearby.

Daryl tore his way back to them, crossbow up and ready as he stopped in front of the group, putting himself between them and any potential danger. Connor was right beside him in an instant, arrow nocked and pulled back, quickly taking in his surroundings.

"Came from the west," Connor stated, eyes searching.

"At least a couple miles back," Daryl said, finger hovering over the trigger. 

"Sniper?"

"Nah, hunting rifle." He lowered the crossbow. "Would've picked us off by now if it were."

Connor lowered his bow, sliding the arrow back into his quiver and hooking the bow over his shoulder. 

"Good sense of direction," Daryl said, eyeing the blonde. 

Connor let a smirk take over his features. "I did learn from ta best."

Daryl growled and pushed by Connor, nodding his head at the group. "Let's keep moving."

Connor sighed and pulled out his smokes, lighting one as he rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache from this emotional carousel that seem to be going around and around in his head.

Carol put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his head and giving him a smile. "Tell me how you guys met."

Connor could tell she was trying to distract him and he appreciated it. He wanted to remember the good times and not dwell on what was happening now.

As they started walking again, Connor told them how, eight years ago, he had met the gruff hunter at the meatpacking plant. Told them how he and Murphy had annoyed Daryl to no end, only for him to finally crack a smile at the brothers everyday shenanigans. Told them about the invite to join the brothers at their favorite pub and Murphy, being the champion drinker that he was, challenged Daryl to a drinking contest, and lost. Daryl had drank Murphy under the table and could still walk a straight line. Told them how that one night had solidified a friendship between the three of them.

Daryl was in shock. He remembered dreaming about that day, and night, multiple times, exactly how Connor described it. It was getting harder and harder to tell himself that it wasn't real when his dreams were being spouted out of the Irishman's mouth. He wished he could remember those three years that he had lost.

Daryl turned around when he didn't hear footsteps anymore, seeing everyone watch Lori as she stared off into the distance.

"Ya still worryin' abou' it?" Connor asked, standing beside her.

"It was a gunshot," she said, eyes vacant.

"We all heard it," Daryl said, eyes still looking for any threat.

She quickly turned around to face them, fear etched upon her features. "Why one? Why just one gunshot?"

"Maybe 'hey took down a walker," Connor suggested, voice low and soothing as he tried to calm Lori down.

She shook her head. "You don't know my husband. Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker. Or Shane. They'd do it quietly."

"Shouldn't they have caught up with us by now?" Carol asked in a small voice, not wanting to cause tension.

Daryl shrugged. "There's nothing we can do about it anyway."

"Aye." Connor nodded. "We can' run around chasin' echoes now can we?"

"So what do we do?" Lori asked.

"Same as we've been," Daryl said, eyes not shifting from the tree line. "Beat the bush for Sofia, work our way back to the highway."

Connor placed his hand on Lori's shoulder, squeezing gently to give her troubled mind comfort. "I'm sure they'll mee' us back at your camp. Rick seems like a man ta never break his word."

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. He never does."

Connor pulled her forward as the group started moving again.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through," Andrea told Carol, falling into step beside her. "I know how you feel."

Carol offered a pained smile. "I suppose you do. Thank you." Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to hold back the tears.

Connor and Lori slowed their ace to allow them to catch up. Connor grabbed on to Carol's hand when she was close enough.

"The thought of her out here by herself..." She sniffled, holding Connor's hand in an iron grip. "It's the not knowing that's killing me. I just keep hoping and praying she doesn't wind up like Amy."

Andrea stopped dead in her tracks as those words left Carol's mouth. She wasn't the only one; The whole group stopped and stared as they waited for the fallout. Carol never said anything harsh or disrespectful, so they knew what she meant. They were just waiting for the explosion from Andrea.

After Carol realized what she had said, she instantly grabbed Andrea's hands in her own, silently asking for forgiveness. "Oh, God. That's the worst thing I ever said."

To everyone's surprise, Andrea smiled sadly and shook her head, waving off Carol's apology. Connor could still see the hatred simmering in her eyes though. We're all hoping and praying with you. For what it's worth."

"I'll tell you what it's worth," Daryl said, making Andrea's hate-filled gaze rip away from Carol. "Not a damn thing. It's a waste of time, all this hoping and praying. 'Cause we're gonna locate that little girl,  and she's gonna be just fine." He looked around in astonishment. "Am I the only one zen around here? Good Lord."

Connor stifled a laugh behind a cough, but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"The hell are you laughing at?" Daryl shot daggers at Connor as he brushed past, making the Irishman shake his head at the hunter fondly.

Connor wrapped his arms around Lori and Carol's shoulders as they began moving again, shit-eating-grin plastered firmly on his face.

After searching the woods for another half hour, Connor noticed the sun setting on the horizon. His senses hiked up, making him more alert as darkness was upon them. He separated himself from Carol and Lori with an apologetic look, nocking an arrow in his bow, holding it loosely between his fingers as he made his way up to Daryl. "We're losing daylight," he said as he got close enough to the hunter.

Daryl nodded, scoffing at the blonde, "I know."

Connor grabbed his arm, making him stop "Daryl, I know how badly you wan' to find this girl, but we also gotta think abou' them, too," he pointed over his shoulder at the group. "Tis gonna get dark soon. They don' know how to handle themselves ye'. It's not safe. We need ta ge' them back."

Daryl weighed his options, glancing at Connor and back at the trees surrounding them before nothing at Connor. "All right, we'll head back." The bottom dropped out of his stomach as Connor smiled at him. He shook it off by ripping his arm out of the blonde's hold and facing the group. "We'll lose the light before too long. I think we should call it." He cast an apologetic look at Carol.

"Let's head back," Lori said, picking up on the seriousness Connor and Daryl's eyes.

"We'll pick it up again tomorrow?" Carol asked.

Connor nodded. "Aye. We'll find her tomorrow."

Daryl gestured for them to follow as he quickly changed direction to head back to the highway. Everybody's head hung in disappointment as they realized it would be another night Sophia was out there alone.

It wasn't too long before everyone started getting irritated, exhaustion setting in.

"How much farther?" Lori asked. She wanted to rest, but wouldn't stop until she was sat down in the R.V.

"Not much," Daryl replied, getting winded himself. "Maybe a hundred yards. As the crow flies."

"Too bad we're not crows," Andrea replied, head hung low as she watched the ground, veering off from the group. She ended up walking through a spider web spun between two large trees, and right into the path of a walker.

She screamed and stumbled, landing hard on her back when she realized how close it was. She screamed and kicked, trying to keep it's snapping jaws away from her as the group rushed over, not knowing that she had been separated, or how far away she had gotten.

She saw her death in the dead man's eyes, thinking of how much she didn't want to die, but if she was going to go, at least she would get to see Amy and her parents again. She heard her pulse, pounding in her ears as her foot missed its target and the walker got closer. She only realized it wasn't her heart beating so loudly, but the sound of a horse's hooves hitting the ground as a bat came down on the walkers head, knocking it to the ground.

Andrea heaved in a big gulp of air in relief, sitting up to see a brown-haired woman on top of the horse, asking for Lori.

"I'm Lori," Lori said as the group reach Andrea and the strange woman.

"Rick sent me, you've gotta come now," the woman said, fear and determination in her voice.

"What?" Lori asked.

"There's been an accident. Carl's been shot."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm moving to Canada! Or Ireland! Don't care which. Trump is president, I'm getting the fuck out of dodge. Who wants to come? Help us oh mighty Walking Saints!

The bow sliped out of Conner's hand, falling to the ground with a thud. Those words repeated over and over in his head; ' _Carl's_ _been shot'_. If he would've spoken up, if he would've said something about the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach- No! He couldn't think like that. He looked from the woman to Lori. She was frozen. Not moving. Not blinking. His eyes snapped back to the woman on horseback as she spoke up again, "He's still alive, but you gotta come now."

Those words snapped Connor into action. Seeing that Lori was as still as a statue, he made his way over to her. Grabbing her face in his hands, he brought her gaze to meet his. "Lori, ya gotta look at me."

Her eyes we're cloudy and unfocused. She was lost in her head.

"Lori!"

Lori blinked, eyes clearing up as they finally met Connor's.

"Go. He's alive and ya have to ge' to him." He rested his forehead against hers. "We will mee' up with you as soon as we can. Go to your boy."

Lori nodded and, with a sob, ripped herself away from Connor, throwing her pack on the ground as she ran over to the horse.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. We don't know this girl," Daryl said, anger coursing through his veins at both himself and Connor. He should've told Rick and Lori to let the kid stay with the group. He shouldn't have kept his mouth shut. He was angry at Connor for showing Lori such affection as well. Lord knows she gets enough affection from everyone else. "You can't get on that horse."

"Daryl!" Connor shouted. He should have known Daryl's trust issues would be stronger than ever now. "It's her son."

"Rick said you had others on the highway? That big traffic snarl?" the brunette asked as Lori climbed up behind her on the horse.

Glenn nodded, seeming to be the only one to keep his head at the moment.

"Backtrack to Fairburn Road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox, the names Greene." She flicked the reigns, disappearing into the trees.

Everyone stared in disbelief, trying to let the new sink in. Another child in danger. What would they do if they lost both Sofia and Carl?

Hearing gurgling moans, the group turned towards the walker that had attacked Andrea, watching as it sat up again.

"Shut up," Daryl said, shooting a bolt into the walker's forehead. But the moans didn't stop.

Connor's eyes shifted to the tree line, seeing over a dozen walkers stumbling towards the group. "Fuck."

Daryl came up beside the blonde, watching them get closer.

"Gec them ou' of here," Connor said, picking up his bow. He slid it across his back and pulled out his Berettas, leveling them at the walkers' heads.

"I ain't leaving you here by yourself," Daryl said, reloading his crossbow and aiming as well.

"Don'," Connor said, not taking his eyes off the corpses just a few yards away. "We don' have time and you don' have enough arrows." His eyes met Daryl's for a split second, but it was enough for Daryl to see the seriousness in them. "I'll be righ' behind ya. I swear."

Daryl opened his mouth to protest again, but quickly closed it, nodding. He didn't want to leave the Irishman. He felt an overwhelming urge to protect him with everything he had, but he pushed it back, promising himself to explore the feelings later. He placed his hand on Connor's shoulder. "Be careful."

Connor nodded, not hiding the genuine smile that stretched across his face. He was happy his hunter was worried for him.

"Go!" Daryl shouted, running ahead of every.

After Glenn picked up Lori's discarded supplies, the group took off after Daryl, running as fast as their tired bodies would allow. Daryl looked behind him to make sure everyone was there. When he didn't see Connor, he stopped. He saw at least three bodies on the forest floor and saw the rest of them ambling off in the opposite direction.

"Daryl!"

He turned back towards the group as Andrea called his name. He took one last longing look at the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Irishman, before he took off again, catching up to them easily.

"Where did they all come from?" Carol panted, pumping her legs as quickly as she could.

"Andrea's fucking screaming probably attracted them," Daryl snapped, pushing aside tree branches.

"Fuck you," Andrea gasped. Her body wanted to give out, but she let her anger take control of her movements as she started gaining speed. When was the last time you had a walker in your face?"

"Yesterday morning," Daryl replied, a smug grin on his face.

"Guys! There's the R.V.," Glenn shouted.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the R.V. came into view. Climbing over the barrier, they all collapsed, hands on knees, bent at the waist, breathing in as much oxygen as they could.

"What happened to you guys out there?" Dale asked, passing out water bottles. "Where's Rick? Where's everyone else?"

Glenn filled him in on everything that happened as Daryl and Carol scanned the tree line for Connor.

"Where is he?" Carol asked, fear and exhaustion heavy in her voice.

"Dunno." Daryl's hand reached up and grabbed his ring tightly. He shouldn't have left him. He should've stayed. He shook his head and climbed back over the rail. "I'm going back for him."

"Daryl, wait!"

Daryl gazed at the woods and saw Connor slowly emerge, limping, hands gripping his left knee tightly. Daryl's heart sank as he ran towards the blonde. ' _Please, don't be bit. Please, don't be bit.'_  He threw his arm around Connor's waist when he got close enough, letting him take the weight off his injured leg. "Were you bit?"

Connor shook his head, arm going around Daryl's shoulders, fingers gripping Daryl's tightly as he brought his hand up to keep Connor's arm around him. "No," Connor gasped, pain shooting up his leg. He gripped Daryl's fingers tighter, focusing on how warm he was instead of how fucked his knee was. "Tripped over a fuckin' log and dislocated my knee."

"Better than the alternative."

Connor snorted. "Amen."

Carol helped lift him over the guardrail when they got close enough, leading him over to a cooler on the ground and setting him down.

Connor leaned his bow against a nearby car and shrugged off his backpack, rummaging around the front and side pockets.

"Who's this?"

Connor paused his search to see Dale hovering over him, torn between helping him and protecting his people. Connor's smile was more of a grimace as another wave of pain crashed over him. "Name's Connor. You mus' be Dale. Lori and Carol told me abou' you." He looked back at his pack and continuedto search. "Don' worry. I'm no' goin' to harm anyone."

"We found him when we were looking for Sophia," Glenn said, taking Dale's attention off the Irishman. "He's a good guy. He wants to help find her. He also just saved our lives."

Connor waved him off, eyes not abandoning their goal. "T'was nothing, lad."

"What happened out there anyway, Conner?" Glenn asked.

Connor shrugged, pulling out a lump of cloth from his bag. "I led them away for a bi', then took them all ou'. Made sure no stragglers were chasin' you. I picked up your trail and started to follow, when I tripped over a damn log and dislocated my knee. Aha!" He pulled out a knee brace and an instant ice pack.

"Do you need help?" Dale asked.

Connor shook his head. "No. It's a pre-existing injury, I know wha' to do." He broke the ice pack and set it aside, waiting for it to chill. "Carol, love, could you hand me tha' stick behind you?"

Carol looked down and spotted the piece of wood Connor had pointed out and handed it to him.

"Thank you, darlin'." He took out his knife from his belt sheath and made a big slit in his pants from thigh to ankle, letting the tattered remains hang to the ground. "Fer anyone who is a little squeamish, ya should look away." He shoved the stick between his teeth and placed his hands on his thigh and knee. He took a deep breath and squeeze his eyes shut, snapping his knee back into place. A muffled scream escaped his clenched teeth as white hot pain flared through his body, hot tears welling up behind his eyelids.

Daryl was stone. Every muscle in his body froze when Connor let out that scream. All he wanted to do was take Connor in his arms and bandage his wounds, take his pain away. But he couldn't move.

Connor let the stick fall from his mouth as he let out a choked sob. Reaching for the ice pack, he laid it gingerly on his knee and slowly brought the brace up his leg, securing the ice pack on his knee with it. His shaking hand came up to wipe away the few tears that had escaped, taking in a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

"Damn."

Everyone turned to see T-Dog leaning heavily against the R.V., hooded eyes taking in Connor.

"That was badass."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like it's kind of weird that a lot of my chapters have a shit ton of dialogue from the show, but there's a reason for that. I want this story to be like you're sitting down and watching he episodes that the chapters are based off of. I kind of want them to be the same just with Connor added in. So, some things will be th same, some will be taken out and some will be added. I'm even planning on veering off the show completely sometimes. But I promise you, it will never get boring or redundant. I will always be adding something new.

"I won't do it," Carol said, tears in her eyes, shaking her head. "We can't just leave."

"Carol," Dale sighed, "the group is split. We're scattered and weak."

"What if she comes back, and we're not here?" Carol asked, incredulously. She looked around, seeing a flare of doubt in Andrea's eyes. "It could happen."

Andrea looked away, guilt clouding her features. "If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful."

"They're righ'," Connor said, leaning up against the R.V., trying to keep unwanted weight off of his knee. "There's always the possibility tha' she'll come back here before we find her. Wha' should we do then?"

"Okay." Daryl bit his lip, nodding, plan formulating in his head. "We got to plan for this. I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes." He looked over at Carol, emphasizing his words. "Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies." His eye flicked over to Connor again before meeting Dale's. "I'll hold here tonight. Stay with the R.V."

"If the R.V. is staying, I am too," Dale said.

"Thank you," Carol whispered, gratitude and sadness choking her words. "Thank you both."

Daryl tilted his head in thanks at her gratitude. It was something he wasn't used to getting.

After a beat of silence, Andrea reluctantly said, "I'm in."

"Aye, same." Connor smiled and shot Carol a wink, making a smile ghost across her face for a fleeting second. He still counted it as a win.

"Well, if you're all staying, then I'm-" Glenn started, Dale cutting him off.

"Not you, Glenn, you're going. Take Carol's Cherokee."

Glenn scoffed. "Me? Why is it always me?"

"You have to find this farm, reconnect with our people and see what's going on. But most important, you have to get T-Dog there," Dale insisted, fear animating his features. "This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection. Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics, because if not, T-Dog will die, no joke." Dale turned to Connor. "Connor, I'd like you to go with them."

Conner straightened up at being addressed, surprise coloring his face. "Ya sure? I don' mind stayin' if it's all the same."

Dale nodded. "I know, but I would feel better if they had you there covering their backs. We don't know what we're walking into and I doubt that Rick, Lori, or Shane are going to be in the right frame of mind to notice anything off right now."

"Ya trus' me enough to look after your people?" Connor smiled at the old man.

Dale shrugged. "Seems you did a fine job of that already. Plus, you're injured too. You need more than ice on that knee to get it going again. Get yourself and T-Dog some help. We'll find you guys tomorrow."

Darryl listen to them exchanged words in anger as he dug through the bags on Merle's bike. He was angry that Dale was sending Connor into what could possibly be a dangerous situation. He was not happy that Connor would be leaving the group for the night, but he felt a sense of relief as well. He needed some time away from the Irishman to sort out his thoughts. He walked back over to the group, plastic bag filled with pill bottles in hand. "Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle." Dale had a few rags sitting on the handlebars and Daryl tossed them at him in retaliation. "Why did you wait till now to say anything?" He dug through the bag, reading the labels quickly to find what he was looking for. "Got my brother's stash. Crystal. X. Don't need that." He pulled out a bottle, double-checking it was the one that he wanted before tossing it to Connor. "Got some kick-ass pain killers."

Connor smiled at the hunter as he caught them, instantly taking out two and swallowing them dry, nodding his thanks.

Daryl hid his own smile by tucking back into the bottles. "Oxycycline." He took the bottle out and handed it to Dale, knowing it was exactly what T-Dog needed. "Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class."

Everyone stared at him in amazement.

Daryl shrugged, turning back towards the bike. "Merle got the clap on occasion."

Hearing that name, Connor grit his teeth and squeezed the pill bottle so hard he cracked it. He suppressed a grow, wishing that the redneck piece of shit was there now so he could put a bullet between his eyes.

He was shaken out of his violent thoughts as Dale came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "You okay, son?"

Connor nodded, stealing his emotions and plastering on his signature grin. "Righ' as rain." He noticed the bottle in Dale's hand. "Shouldn' you be givin' some of tha' to T-Dog?"

A big smile lit up Dale's face. "Already did." He looked over at Daryl, appreciation in his voice. "That Daryl Dixon, he's a saint at times. Everyone thought he would be just like his brother, but it's pretty easy to see that golden heart under his gruff exterior."

Connor snorted. "Daryl has, and never will be, like Merle. He's too kind-hearted to be anythin' like tha' bastard."

Dale's eyes went wide. "You know Daryl and Merle?"

Connor gazed at Daryl, smiling fondly as he helped Carol divide up the food that was found amongst the vehicles. "Ya could say tha'."

Dale's face filled with recognition as he saw love brimming in the blonde's eyes. "Oh. Wow. I never saw that coming, to be honest."

Connor looked back at him and shrugged. "The hear' wants wha' it wants."

"What happened between you two, if you don't mind me asking?"

Connor felt the sudden urge to hit something. "Merle happened. Merle took him away from me." He felt tears brimming in his eyes. "I haven' seen Daryl in five years. And now, he doesn' even remember who I am."

Dale felt sympathy rise up inside of him. Cancer had stolen his love away, he knew how it felt. "Connor."

Connor raised his eyes from the ground, meeting Dale's.

"You're here now. Give him time and he'll remember. You can't rush these things," Dale said, soothing Connor's frayed emotions.

Connor nodded. "Aye, I know. It's gettin' harder and harder though. He's righ' in fron' of me and I can' even reach out and grab him." He blinked rapidly to stave off the tears. "I see the old him comin' through though."

"What do you mean?"

"When my brother, Murph, and I firs' me' Daryl, he was wha' you would imagine; Angry, violen', a loner. For the firs' few months of our friendship, the only people who could ge' close to him was us. But a few months before we go' together, he changed. He smiled more, he was kinder. He still said he didn' care  but he would always go ou' of his way to help someone." He nodded to where Daryl was talking quietly with Carol. "He's doin' it now. I jus' wish he would remember me."

Dale gave Connor's shoulder of comforting squeeze. "With you being back in his life, I say it's only a matter of time before he does."

Connor smiled and gratitude, nodding.

"Oh, before you go," Dale said, "I have something that may help your knee." He climbed into the R.V. and quickly came back out with a bamboo staff, holding it out to Connor. "It's not crutches, but it should help take unwanted pressure off your knee."

Connor took it appreciatively, leaning against it to test its strength. "This is perfec', Dale. Thank you."

Dale nodded. "It was my wife's. We used to camp a lot and take walks in the woods. She always had it with her. I asked her one time, 'Why do you carry that thing on our walks?', and she said that it made her feel like an explorer from years ago. She always wanted to travel, but we never got around to it."

Connor smiled sadly. "I'll take good care of it."

Dale smiled back. "I'm going to see if T-Dog needs anything before you go." He left just as Connor heard approaching footsteps.

Connor turned his head and saw Daryl standing next to him. ' _Sly, old man.'_  "Come to give me a goodbye kiss?" He mentally facepalmed. He really wished he had that brain-to-mouth filter. Sometimes, he was worse than Murphy.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the blonde, trying to fight down the blush he could feel creeping into his face. "Only in your dreams," he grumbled.

"Aye. And they are very swee' dreams."  _'Shut up, Connor.'_

Daryl couldn't help but snort at that. "Just keep 'em to yourself, Mick."

Connor grinned. "We'll see."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Had banter between them always been this easy? He mentally shook his head to steal himself. "Look, I don't really want you going with Glenn and T-Dog."

Connor's face fell. "Why no'? Do you no' trus' me?"

Daryl wanted to tell him that it wasn't him he didn't trust, but the words wouldn't come. He was still in a battle with himself; He wanted Connor to stay so he could keep an eye on him and make sure that he was healing properly. But, he also wanted to stay away from the Irishman. His feelings were all over the place concerning this man and he didn't know how to handle it. He knew some time alone would help him manage his thoughts.

"Daryl."

Darryl brought his eyes up to meet crystal blue. "I've already proven tha' I will no' harm the group. I couldn'. I don' harm the innocent." Connor felt his hand twitch. He wanted so badly to place his hands on Daryl's cheeks, to feel the stubble on his soft skin once again, but he forced himself to stay still. "You trusted me once before, Daryl, and I never broke tha' trust. Trust me again. I swear I will no' harm your people."

Daryl saw the honesty in Connor's eyes and nodded. He knew that he already did trust this man. He could feel it deep down in his heart. Daryl took in every feature of Connor's face; His sharp cheekbones, his saddened Cerulean blue eyes, pointed chin. He stopped at Connors lips. They were full and slightly parted. He found himself gravitating towards the man, eyes dead set on those lips, but he pulled himself back, turning on his heel to walk away. "Just get yourself patched up," he called over his shoulder. He had to get away before he did something stupid, like kiss the blonde.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that I am truly honored to have over 300 readers. I never thought that something I put out could be liked this much. I don't just write this for myself, but for all of you who love this pairing and these wonderful human beings that have given us the greatest characters. And I wanted to let you guys know that I will now be taking prompts. So, I will take them for Connaryl (Connor/Daryl), Spirk, Stony, Hawksilver, Shassie, Scones (Scotty/Bones), and Jessidy (Jesse/Cassidy) from Preacher. I want to give back to you guys as my way of saying thank you to all my wonderful readers. Let me know what you guys would like. Love you all and I hope you guys have great holidays!

_The door to Daryl's apartment was kicked in, letting in the first drugs of light into the dark and dreary environment. "Wha' the hell did you do?" came the light Irish brogue from the doorway._

_Daryl didn't flinch from his place on the couch at Murphy's sudden entrance, he had been expecting it all day. He raised his beer to his lips with shaking hands, downing the rest of the bottle, gaze unwavering at the wall._

_"Answer me you fuckin' redneck piece of shit!" Murphy bellowed. "Wha' the fuck did you do to my brother?!"_

_"Don't worry about it," came Daryl's soft reply._

_"Don' worry abou' it?!" Murphy screeched, "he's my brother and you jus' broke his hear' withou' any explanation. Now, you are goin' to tell me jus' wha' the fuck you were thinking."_

_Daryl leaned forward, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, gripping it tightly. "Just let it go, Murphy."_

_"Oh, go fuck yourself. I'm no' leavin' here till you give me an explanation." Murphy stomped over to the lamp tucked away in the corner. "And turn on some lights ya fuckin' depressed bastard." He flipped the switch and turned back towards Daryl, stopping short as he took in the hunter's tear stained face._

_Daryl sniffled as a fresh wave of tears made their way down his cheeks before scrubbing them away violently. He hated when other people saw him cry._

_Murphy's eyes softened a little at Daryl's broken state, but the hard expression on his face didn't waver. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. "Star' talkin'."_

_Daryl let out a shaky sigh and lowered his head, not looking his friend in the eye. Murphy was terrifying when he wanted to be. "He's out."_

_"Who's ou'?"_

_"...Merle."_

_Murphy's arms fell to his side's in shock. "Wha'? How do you know tha'?"_

_Daryl grab another beer off the coffee table (a piece of plywood sitting on top of two cinder blocks. It was the closest thing he would get to a table.) and took a large gulp before answering. "I have a friend back in Georgia. He called yesterday and told me."_

_"I though' he still had a few more years ta rot," Murphy said, taking a seat next to Daryl on the rickety couch._

_Daryl nodded. "Three more. They let the fucker go because the God damn place was 'overcrowded'." Daryl snorted. "Overcrowded my ass."_

_Murphy pulled out two cigarettes, lighting them both and handing one to Daryl. He inhaled the smoke and let it out slowly, pushing out his anger enough to listen to what Daryl had to say. "So, what's tha' have ta do with you breakin' Connor's hear'?"_

_Daryl scoffed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. "It's not like I wanted to."_

_"Ya may no' have wanted to, but you did," Murphy snapped. "Wha' the hell is goin' on in tha' hillbilly brain of yours?"_

_Daryl squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Murphy, you don't understand."_

_"Then make me understand! I spen' all day up there tryin' to console him. He jus' finally fell asleep from all the cryin' he did." Murphy turned towards the hunter. "It's you who doesn' understand. Connor hasn' cried like tha' since Ma had her cancer scare when we were kids. He hasn' even cried_ since."

_Daryl felt a wave of shame crash over him at hearing the agony he had cause to the one he loved._

_"Tell me why."_

_Daryl sighed shakily, taking a long inhale off his cigarette. "With Merle being out, it's only a matter of time until he finds me." He ran his fingers through his, already, disheveled hair. "And I'll be damned if Connor gets hurt, or killed, because of me."_

_Murphy sat in stunned silence. Daryl was trying to protect his brother. "Would Merle really-"_

_"Yes, he would. If there's one thing Merle hates more than anything, it's fags. If he finds me, he'll blame Connor for turning me into one and he'll try to kill him." Daryl leaned back against the couch, tilting his head back so it hung over the edge. He had his eyes squeezed shut, trying to erase the images of Connor, bloodied, out of his mind._

_They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before Murphy spoke. "You don' need to protec' him, you know? You should know by now tha' he can take care of himself."_

_Daryl snorted, nodding. "Oh, I know."_

_"Ya know, if you jus' talk to him and tell him the truth, he'd understand."_

_Daryl shook his head. "How would I be able to live with myself knowing it was all my fault if he..." He couldn't finish the thought. It was too painful._

_Murphy let out an exasperated sigh. "Why didn' you jus' tell him instead of bein' a fuckin' retard and doin' this shit?"_

_"Because he would've convinced me to stay!" Daryl sprung to his feet, pacing. "And I have to get as far away as possible."_

_Murphy stood up and grab Daryl by the shoulders, shaking him. "You're jus' puttin' him through more pain by doin' this. Ya know he'd wan' to face this with you, because he loves you. Lord above, I don' know why, but he does. And I will be damned if I le' you walk away from him withou' the decency of tellin' him why."_

_Daryl hung his head in shame. He knew Murphy was right, he had to tell Connor what was going on. It was the least he could do. "He won't take me back, and I wouldn't blame him if he didn't."_

_Murphy sighed. "Yeah, neither would I, but he will. Like I said, he loves ya."_

_"He shouldn't," Daryl mumbled._

_Murphy smacked him upside the head. "Will you shu' up already? Christ fuckin' sake, ge' your ass up there now, or I'll be draggin' your fuckin' corpse."_

_"Jesus, Murph! Alright, I'm going." Daryl rubbed the back of his head angrily as he walked out the door, Murphy hot on his heels. He climbed the stairs slowly, usually grateful that he lived right below the brothers, but now dreading it as he got closer and closer to Connor with every step that he took. He still didn't know what to say to the man who, hours before, he had hurt. He wouldn't blame Connor if he never forgave him. He wasn't even sure if he could forgive himself for what he had done. But, if it kept Connor safe, he would gladly live with the love of his life hating him._

_All too soon, Daryl and Murphy stood outside of the brothers' shared apartment. He was worried about what kind of state Connor would be in. Would he punch him? Scream at him? Tell him to hit the road? He knew he deserved it all and then some._

_"Dixon, don' make me hur' you," Murphy growled._

_Daryl take a deep breath and reached for the door knob, hesitating, before he turned to Murphy. "Murphy, why would you want me to go back after I hurt him?"_

_Murphy's expression softened. "Because Daryl, no matter wha', we're family."_

_Daryl's breath caught in his throat and he nodded, turning back towards the door. Without a second thought, he opened it, stepping over the threshold into the sparsely furnished apartment. Whenever he stepped foot in the place, he always marveled at how much it resembled his own. The only difference being that there were two beds instead of one with a small table set between them and his eyes drew to the one closest to the door._

_Connor was curled up under a thin blanket, back to the door. Daryl had never seen him look so vulnerable. Without realizing that he even moved, Daryl found himself climbing into the bed behind Connor, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his nose into soft, blonde hair, feeling the tension in his muscles melt away as he took in the familiar scent of the Irishman. "I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered, tears running freely out of the corners of his eyes, placing light kisses against the crown of his head. "So sorry."_

_Daryl was surprised when Connor turned in his arms, ocean blue eyes red rimmed and swimming with tears. Daryl's eyes widened at the devastating look on his loves face. Knowing he had been the one to put it there mad him feel sick. "Connor-"_

_Connor gently cupped Daryl's face in his hands, bringing them into a soft, but frenzied kiss. Daryl tightened his hold on the blonde's waist, tongues wining as Connor's fingers made their way into Daryl's hair. Daryl pulled away, breathing heavily, and rested his forehead against Connor's. "I love you," he whispered._

_Connor's face crumbled as he let out a sob, burying his face into Daryl's chest to muffle his cries._

_Daryl held him tightly, stroking his hair, holding back his own sobs. He knew now that he wasn't strong enough to leave the man in his arms and knew that, no matter what happened, they would face it together. He never wanted to hear Connor cry like that again._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised that I forgot to include destiel in my list. Don't hit me, I've already done that enough. I'm ashamed. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving and for those of you not in the U.S. that also had a holiday, I hope you enjoyed it. And now, we bring you to our regularly scheduled program of Remember Me.

Daryl bolted upright from the RV's floor with a gasp. Chest heaving, blinking back tears, hand groping blindly at his chest for the ring. It had been almost a year since it had that particular dream and it still brought him to tears. He could still hear Connor's sobs ringing in his ears, he shook his head trying desperately to dislodge the sound.

It had only been a few hours since he had met the blonde, and already his mind was in turmoil. He was still convinced that his dreams are only dreams, but, little by little, he was starting to think that maybe they meant a little more. Connor seemed like the bright light at the end of a long tunnel, and what a dark tunnel it seemed to be. He wished he could remember what it was like not to have darkness in his heart.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a light sobbing. He turned to look to the back of the RV to see Carol,quietly sobbing, laying in bed, looking longingly out the window and into the night. He turned his head at the sound of metal clinking together. Andrea was sat at the kitchen table, trying to reassemble her gun. Daryl felt his chest swell in anger. How could she just sit there when one of her so-called friends really needed her? Andrea really sickened him at times. 

Daryl knew he wasn't much one for comfort, but he could do the next best thing for Carol. Running his fingers over the Claddagh ring one last time, he heaved himself up and grabed his crossbow, slinging it across his back. "I need my clip now," he told Andrea, holding back his growl.

She handed it to him, eyes questioning.

"I'm gonna walk the road," he explained, "look for the girl." He turned towards Carol, seeing her turned towards him as well, gratitude shining in her eyes. He nodded, grabbing flashlight before heading out the door.

Daryl scan the surrounding trees at the edge of the road, looking for any sign of movement, when he heard footsteps behind him. He quickly turned to see Andrea behind him, brandishing a flashlight of her own. "I'm coming too."

Daryl rolled his eyes and looked up at Dale on top of the RV. "I'm gonna go for a walk, shine some light in the forest. If she's out there, give her something to look at."

"Do you think that's a good idea right now?" Dale asked.

"Dale," Andrea sniped, glaring up at the old man as she walked on, passing Daryl.

Daryl shrugged at Dale, following the blonde. He knew Dale was just trying to protect everyone, he didn't deserve Andrea giving him the third degree all the time.

After a couple minutes of walking through the woods in silence, Andrea spoke up. "You really think we're going to find Sophia?"

Daryl shined his light on her face, scoffing. "You got that look on your face same as everybody else. The hell's wrong with you people? We just started looking."

"Well, do you?"

"It ain't the mountains of Tibet, it's Georgia," he insisted. "She could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere." He couldn't believe the gall of this woman to want to give up so quickly. "People get lost and they survive, it happens all the time."

"She's only twelve," Andrea said, looking at the ground.

"Hell, I was younger than her and I got lost," he said, gaze unwavering at the trees. "Nine days in the woods, eating berries, wiping my ass with poison oak."

"They found you?" she asked, eyes rising to look at the hunter.

Daryl shook his head. "My old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doing another stint in juvie. Didn't even know I was gone." He tried not to get lost in the memory, not wanting to remember his so-called childhood. "I made my way back though. Went into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear. Except my ass itched something awful."

Andrea snorted.

Daryl turned to glare at her.

"I'm sorry," she laughed. "I'm sorry, that is a terrible story."

Daryl couldn't help as a laugh escaped him as well. He knew it was funny, just not one of his better memories. "Only difference is, Sofia's got people looking for her. I call that an advantage."

Andrea took a deep breath to stop for laughing and to steal herself for her next question. "So, what's this thing with you and Connor?"

Daryl stopped in his tracks, an angry scowl on his face. "What about the mick?" Inside, his stomach was churning and his heart was beating a mile a minute.

Andrea shrugged, turning to face him. "Just that you two seem to have some chemistry. And, according to him, a lot of history."

Daryl growled and pushed past her, continuing his search.

"You can tell me, you know?" Andrea said, jogging to catch up. "You can tell me that he's making it up, I'll believe you. He seems to have everybody else believing that you two go way back, but I think he's full of -"

"I don't know, okay!" Daryl whirled around, making Andrea come to a sudden halt before she crashed into him. "I don't know what the truth is. I don't know what to believe. All I know, is that I woke up one day with no memories of the past couple years. All I know, is that every night since, I've dreamt about him. For years, I have dreamt about that man, without any knowledge of who he is." He grabbed the ring and held it up. "I found this in my pocket after I woke up, only knowing that it gave me comfort. I've seen the picture, and I don't understand it. I don't remember Boston, I don't remember his brother, and I don't remember him! But, being around him makes me calm and crazy at the same time. It's easy, but difficult." He gripped the ring so hard his knuckles turned white. "I don't think he's 'full of shit' as you like to say."

Andrea narrowed her eyes, mind reeling with the possibilities until it clicked. "You were lovers."

Daryl's eyes widened. "I-I don't remember." Daryl turned around, continuing his search, as Andrea's words echoed inside of his head. All the dreams he'd had about kissing Connor, holding him, making love to him, never prepared them to hear it spoken out loud. He knew the dreams, finding Connor, and the ring were all tied together, and he wanted desperately to explore it further, but he pushed it to the back burner of his mind. Sophia was more important than him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big, big thank you to Faith1912 for helping me with the German translations. Using Google Translate for a language you only know very little about is absolute hell. I know I got some things wrong, but she was nice enough to let me know and it has been fixed. So thank you and here is more Remember Me.

With every bump that the car hit, Connor clenched his teeth and held back cry, agony surging through his leg. They had turned onto the dirt road twenty minutes before and Connor could now see the lights of the farmhouse about a mile ahead. The only problem was; Glenn was driving so slowly that night had fallen and at the pace they were going, they wouldn't reach the others for another half hour.

"You look really familiar."

Connor looked up from where he was adjusting his brace, wincing when Glenn went over, yet another, bump.

T-Dog was staring at him with heavily lidded eyes, his fever making him go in and out of consciousness the entire trip. He was leaning against the back door of the Cherokee, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. He pushed himself as far against the door is his big frame would allow to let Connor's leg stretch across the back seat, keeping it straight.

Connor nodded. "I ge' tha' a lot," he said, fiddling with the leg of his pants. after he had slit his jeans open to attend to his knee, he had tied it closed with his rope, cutting it into small enough sections to wrap around his leg. He retied the knot at his ankle, snickering quietly to himself. He had found another use for his stupid fucking rope after all.

"You're from Boston, aren't you?"

Connor readjusted himself on the seat, looking up a T-Dog as he spoke again. "Aye."

T-Dog looked him up and down before a weak grin broke across his face. "Name's T-Dog."

"Connor."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me who you are," T-Dog chuckled. "Everybody knows The Saints."

"The who?"

T-Dog looked over at Glenn, incredulously. "Boy, you don't know The Saints of South Boston? You been living under a rock the past few years?"

"I didn't watch the news that much," Glenn defended himself.

T-Dog pointed at Conner. "This guy, and his brother, killed over fifty of Boston's Most Wanted criminals, drug lords, mob bosses. They did what we all wished we could'be done."

"Holy shit. I heard about that. I just didn't pay too much attention, because I always thought 'good riddance'. That was you?" Glenn asked.

Connor nodded. "Me and my brother, Murph. Our da was there, too, but we lost him on our las' job."

"Sorry man," T-Dog said.

"It was better tha' way," Connor said. "Better tha' he's up in heaven now, then down here in hell." He wished his dad was still with them though. Only him and Murphy would be able to calm the storm in his head and heart.

"What about your mom?" Glenn asked.

Connor shrugged. "Don' know. Ma's still in Ireland. Haven' heard from her in a while. Murph and I tried to keep her ou' of wha' we were doin'. So, I don' know. But, if anyone could survive this, it'd be Ma. Tha' woman is tough as nails she is. Put up with our bullshit when we were kids. Threw in a couple of her own pranks, jus' to keep us on our toes." He laughed fondly at the memory.

"She sounds like a good woman," T-Dog said.

Connor nodded. "Aye. Tha' she is."

"We're here," Glenn said, pulling up in front of the farmhouse.

It was a beautiful, two story house with glossy white paint and a wrap around porch. The porch light was on, almost like a welcome sign.

Glenn and T-Dog got out. Glenn coming around to help Connor as T-Dog leaned against a nearby tree.

After Connor was situated on his feet, walking stick clasped firmly in hand, they made their way to the house.

"So, do we ring the bell?" Glenn asked as they got to the porch. "I mean, it looks like people live here."

"We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we?" T-Dog said, shuffling up the stairs. "Having to be considerate."

"It's called bein' polite," Connor said, gingerly limping up the stairs. "And now's the bes' time to be."

"Thank you."

The three men jumped at the voice, turning to see the strange woman from earlier who had taken Lori, hidden in the shadows.

"Not a lot of people would care about a thing like politeness nowadays."

Connor smiled. "My ma bea' manners into me when I was a boy. There's never a bad time for them."

"No, there's not." She got up from her chair and stood in front of them, scrutinizing each one. "I'm Maggie," she finally said.

"Connor," Connor said, shaking her hand. "This is Glenn and T-Dog."

She nodded at each one of them, her eyes widening in fear as she caught sight of T-Dog's bandaged arm.

"It's not a bite," T-Dog reassured her. "I cut myself pretty bad though. I was wondering if you guys could take a look at it, and if there was anything we could do to help Carl."

Maggie nodded. "We'll have it looked at. I'll tell them you're here. And what about you?" she asked, nodding at Connor.

"Dislocated my knee. Already have it popped back in," Connor said.

"I have just the thing for that. Go on in," Maggie said. She held the screen door open and ushered them inside.

"Uh, hi," Glenn said as he passed her. "It's nice to see you again."

Maggie raised an eyebrow.

"We met before, briefly."

She smiled, easing Glenn's nerves. "I remember."

Glenn smiled back.

"Rick and Lori are right through there if you want to see them," she pointed towards a bedroom that was left of the front door.

"Thank you," Glenn said, walking into the room, Connor and T-Dog behind him.

They all stopped, shocked at the state Carl was in. Connor's hand covered his mouth and Glenn took off his hat in respect. "Hey."

"Hey," Rick said, voice raspy, face pale. "This is Hershel, he's taking care of Carl."

They nodded their heads in greeting to the man.

"We're here, okay?" Glenn reassured both Rick and Lori.

"Thank you," Lori said, voice clogged with unshed tears.

"Whatever you need," T-Dog added.

"Aye," Connor said, eyes not leaving the unconscious boy.

Rick nodded his thanks as Maggie ushered them out to give the family some privacy and to look after the wounded.

"Take a seat," Maggie said, pulling out chairs at the kitchen table. "Patricia! I need your help!" she called. "Bring the kit and the heating pad!"

Connor collapsed into his chair with a groan, relief flooding through him as the weight was taking off his injured knee. He awkwardly stretched his leg out and began to untie the ropes binding his pant leg together.

"Who set that?"

Connor looked up at Maggie as she began cleaning off the table to stitch up T-Dog.

"I did," Connor said, untying the last knot.

"You have medical knowledge?" she asked.

Connor shook his head. "No' like what your da has. I've been around the las' few years. Whatever I picked up was wha' kep' me and my brother alive. Also, I've dislocated it before. Know how to handle it."

"It's better that you came here for it," Maggie said, tossing the rag she had been using in the sink. "We'll get you both patched up quicker."

"Thank ya for your hospitality," Connor said, smiling at the brunette.

"What he said," T-Dog mumbled, face firmly planted on the table. "Thanks and all."

Connor and Maggie snickered at him as a blonde woman with tired eyes and a white sundress with flowers came into the kitchen. "Someone need some stitching up?"

T-Dog raised his hand without lifting his head, which just made Connor and Maggie burst into another fit of giggles.

"Patricia, this is Connor and T-Dog. Guys, this is Patricia," Maggie introduce them. Taking the heating pad from Patricia and plugging it into the wall, she helped Connor secure it with a bandage as Patricia started to work on T-Dog.

"I'm not sure if we have enough antibiotics for both him and Carl," Patricia told Maggie, worry etched on her face.

"I forgot," Glenn said, walking into the kitchen. He produced a pill bottle out of his pocket and handed it to Patricia. "He had a dose of that about an hour ago. I'm Glenn, by the way."

"Patricia." Patricia looked impressed at what she read on the label and continued her stitching. "You got here right in time. This couldn't go untreated much longer." She poked the needle through T-Dog's skin again and he jumped, taking deep, labored breaths.

Maggie went over and held his arm down. "You need to stay still, or she could puncture something."

T-Dog nodded, trying with all his might not to move. 

"Merle Dixon," Patricia read the name on the label.

Connor clenched his fists, trying to stop his hands from shaking in anger.

"Is that your friend with the antibiotics?" Patricia asked.

"No ma'am," Glenn said, leaning against the door frame. "Merle's no longer with us."

"Good riddance," Connor muttered. 

Glenn shot him a look of surprise before addressing Patricia again. "Daryl gave us those-his brother."

"Not sure I'd call him a friend," T-Dog gasped in pain.

"He could've easily kep' those to himself and le' you die." Connor glared at T-Dog. "But, he didn'."

"He's right," Patricia said, eyes not leaving her work. "He's your friend today. This Oxycycling might have just saved your life. You know what Merle was taking it for?"

"The clap," Glenn said.

Maggie looked up at him through her eyelashes, laughter in her eyes.

"Uh, venereal disease," Glenn stuttered. "That's what Daryl said."

"I'd say Merle Dixon's clap was the best thing that ever happened to you," Patricia quipped.

"I'm really trying not to think about that," T-Dog wheezed, wincing at the pain shooting up his arm.

Just then, the sound of Lori's frantic cries reached Connor's ears and he shot up. Ignoring his own pain, he limped as quickly as he could to the room the Grimes' were in. "What's goin' on?"

"He's having a seizure," Hershel told him.

Connor looked at Carl, shaking violently on the bed. Lori reached for his shoulders to keep him still.

"Don'!" Connor cried, stopping Lori in her tracks. "If ya hold him down, you could hurt him." He limped his way into the room, helping Hershel move the equipment so none of it broke.

"You can't stop it?" Lori asked, tears falling from her eyes.

"He has to just go through it," Hershel said in an apologetic voice.

Rick pulled Lori into his arms as she tried to reach for her son again, pulling her head into his chest as she sobbed.

Thankfully, the seizure only lasted for a few more seconds before Carl lay still once more, unconscious.

Hershel leaned down to take his pulse and check his pupils. "His brain isn't getting enough blood. His pressure's bottoming, he needs another transfusion."

"Okay, I'm ready," Rick said, swaying side-to-side.

"If I take any more out of you your body could shut down, you could go into a coma," Herschel warned him. "Or cardiac arrest."

"You're wasting time," Rick growled, holding out his arm.

Herschel looked reserved about doing it, but he knew he needed to get more blood into the boy. So, he grabbed his transfusion equipment and went over to Rick.

"Wait!" Connor called out right before the needle went into Rick's arm. He had a sudden epiphany. "Rick, what's his blood type?"

"A-positive. Why?" Rick asked, uncertainty in his voice.

A grin broke out onto Connor's face as he walked over to Hershel, arm out. "Take mine."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lori asked, still in hysterics.

"I'm a-positive as well. Take my blood. I'm offerin," Connor explained. He knew he was in for an argument, but he also knew that they were running out of time.

"You've got to be kidding!" Lori screeched. "We don't know you! How do we know that you don't have any diseases? You could kill our son with your blood!"

"Everythin' happens for a reason," Connor told her. He turned to Rick. "Rick, you were supposed ta find me in tha' church, I know it. I was sen' here to help you. This is how I can help."

Rick looked at his wife, eyes pleading.

"I'm not comfortable with this," Lori admitted.

"Lori, if Rick gives anymore, he could die. Then no one would be able to give Carl any blood and he could die, too," Connor reasoned with her. "I'm jus' tryin' to save your husband and give your son a fightin' chance. I would never intentionally hur' him. I swear."

"You don't have a lot of options," Hershel told them. "It's very fortunate that this young man has stepped forward, but you need to choose, and quickly."

Rick looked to Lori again, grasping her hand tightly. "Do it."

Conor gasped at the sudden pain in his arm as Hershel slid the needle into his vein, collecting his blood to push back into Carl. He took the empty chair next to the bed and laid his arm out, keeping it as straight as possible. The pain in his leg was just a dull throb now with all the adrenaline coursing through him. He looked up at Rick and Lori, holding onto each other tightly as they watched Connor give their boy just a little bit more time.

Thank you," Rick said, nodding his head at Conner.

Connor nodded back and smiled as he tipped his head against the back of the chair, eyes closing. It felt good to help someone again. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I didn't post last week! My damn glasses broke and I didn't have a replacement. For those of you who don't know, it hurts like hell to look at a screen when you can't see shit. But, I put some good stuff in this chapter so I hope that makes up for my absence last week. Again, so sorry, hope you enjoy and leave a comment letting me know what you guys think. Love to all!

"Daryl!" Andrea called out, running to catch up with the disgruntled hunter. After her revelation, she had stopped, dead still in her tracks, mind running a mile a minute as it sank in that she wanted a gay man; Again. ' _You sure know how to pick 'em, Andrea'_ , she thought as she uprooted herself to chase after the hunter. "Daryl, wait!"

Daryl slowed down, but didn't stop moving as Andrea finally caught up to him, hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

"You didn't have to run away from me, you know?" Andrea asked, taking a water bottle from her bag and downing half of it.

"Didn't run away," Daryl growled, becoming impatient when Andrea leaned against a tree, relaxing her tired muscles.

"Yeah, sure," Andrea grumbled back, rolling her eyes. She knew she had wound him up when she heard his footsteps receding. She scrambled to catch up with him again. "How long's it been? Since the amnesia?" she asked, matching his pace.

Daryl sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Five years."

"How much time did you lose?"

"Three years before that."

"You said you dreamed about him?" Andrea asked, glancing at him.

He nodded. "Every night for the past five years, not knowing who he was."

Andrew it was surprised to feel herself saddened by that. She couldn't imagine seeing someone that she didn't recognize, but had deep feelings for.

"You know the weirdest thing?"

Andrea jumped when Daryl's voice penetrated her thoughts, not expecting him to speak again.

"Whenever I woke up, I couldn't remember his face. Not his voice. Not his name." Daryl pushed aside a tree branch, letting Andrea duck underneath it before following her, letting the branch go with the snap. "The only thing I ever remembered, were his eyes."

"Then how do you know, for sure, that the man you've been dreaming about is, Connor?" Andrea asked, catching herself when she tripped over an exposed root.

"The eyes," Daryl said, closing his own as he imagined the pools of blue, dancing with laughter. "Bluer than the deepest ocean. Plus, I could remember, Murphy. Those two were together a lot in my dreams. I could remember the doppelganger, but not, Connor."

"Have you been able to remember anything on your own? Or is it just the dreams?" Andrea asked.

Daryl was silent for a few moments, debating with himself and if he should tell her or not. It did feel good to tell somebody else is inner turmoil. "When we found him in the church, he told me he loved me. I saw... I saw us in a bedroom. We had just woken up and I think it was the first time we ever said we loved each other. Then, later, when he shot the crow? I saw us in the woods. I was teaching him how to shoot a bow."

"Did it hurt?"

Darryl looked over at, Andrea, eyebrow raised.

"Did your head hurt? When you saw that?" she asked again.

Daryl nodded, eyes wide. "Yeah. First time, just a little stab. Second time, hurt so bad it brought me to my knees. How'd you know?"

"I was a lawyer before all this," Andrea reminded him. "Some of my cases involved victims with amnesia. A lot of them said the same thing; That when they started to recover on their own, they felt the flare of pain in their heads. Daryl," she placed her hand on his arm, pulling him back to look at her. "What if the dreams you're having are really memories? If you're starting to remember, your dreams and memories could coincide. Ask Connor to tell you about your past. It may speed up the process."

Daryl shook his head. "I can't ask him. Not until I remember on my own. There may be things he says that I won't believe, or don't want to hear. If I remember myself, I'll have a better chance of accepting it."

"This affects him, too, Daryl," Andrea insisted. "If you're starting to remember, he should know."

Daryl sighed deep within his chest. "I don't wanna get his hopes up." He looked up at the full moon hanging high over their heads. "It's getting late. We should call it."

Andrea sighed, nodding. "Just... don't shut him out completely."

Darryl didn't answer as he began walking back towards the highway. He knew, Andrea, was right. He should talk to, Connor. Find out about his past. But, if he never remembered, he didn't think he could bare to see a permanent sadness contorting the blonde's features.

* * *

 

Connor sat on a bench outside of the bedroom, head spinning. He couldn't believe the amount of blood that has been taken out of him to pump back into Carl's body. The poor kid was losing blood and fast. He prayed that he'd be able to hold on until Shane and Otis came back.

Rick and told him about the accident. How Carl was trying to put a deer and ended up shot. The man, Otis, never saw him till he heard Rick screaming.

Connor knew it was just an accident and commended Otis for trying to do the right thing. He and Shane had left to grab some medical supplies that were essential in keeping Carl alive. He prayed that they'd get back in time.

"Connor."

Connor's head snapped up quickly. A little too quickly. He raised a hand to his forehead and shut his eyes, willing the dizziness to subside. When it passed  he slowly looked up to see Maggie, carrying a glass of orange juice and the heating pad.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Aye. Looked up too quickly, is all," Connor grumbled.

She smiled at him, understanding. "Here. This'll help," she held out the orange juice to him and he took it gratefully, gulping down as much as he could in one breath.

Maggie laughed as she plugged in the heating pad, wrapping it securely around his knee again. "You need to let that sit for at least an hour. After that we'll ice it again. Sound good?"

Connor nodded. The blood loss and dizziness were enough to make his knee pain manageable, but little by little, it had started creeping back full force. He couldn't even take another pain killer in case he needed to donate again. He just had to grit his teeth and bare it.

"If you need anything, I'm just in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Maggie."

She smiled a warm, friendly smile before heading back to the kitchen.

Connor smiled as well, leaning his head back against the wall, sighing. He was so exhausted. Physically and emotionally. The past few hours have been hard on him. He still couldn't believe that he had found, Daryl. Five years without a word and there he was, no memory, but still the same man he remembered; Angry, compassionate, protective. He came back for him, even though he was confused and worried about Sofia. He listen to his advice and protected the group, but still came back for him. His Daryl, always the protector.

What he wouldn't give to have Daryl with him now, running those calloused fingers through his hair, lips against his temple as he soothed Connor's distress. So many things plugged his mind. Finding Sophia, keeping Carl alive, Daryl not remembering him, Murphy missing.

Murphy. Connor had to stop the tears from falling as he thought about his lost twin. one month. It had been a month since he last saw, Murphy. Murphy would be able to help him through all of this. Anytime when something happened between him and Daryl, Murphy would always be right there, helping them sort it out. He'd been doing so since the very beginning.

_Connor walked up the stairs to his loft, absently. He was so numb he didn't even feel it when he lost his footing and tripped on the landing. He shakily got up and opened the door, only to be accosted by Murphy._

_"Where ta fuck have you been, Connor?" Murphy asked, grabbing him into a rough hug. "I tried goin' down to Daryl's, but you guys didn' answer and the door was locked. Where'd you guys go?"_

_"We never lef'," Connor replied softly, too numb to even lift his arms and wrap them around his brother._

_Murphy, sensing something was wrong, leaned away from his twin, looking into his vacant expression. "What's wrong, Conn?"_

_Connor said nothing, giving no indication that he had heard Murphy's words. Eyes staring into nothing._

_"Connor!" Murphy shook him, roughly._

_Connor finally blinked, eyes locking on to the dark blue ones in front of him._

_"Wha' happened, Connor?"_

_Connor felt his face crumble as he leaned in to Murphy, head leaning heavily on his shoulder. "I fucked up, Murph."_

_Murphy brought him over to their old, beaten couch, gathering him in his arms as they sat down. "Wha' happened?" he repeated, softly._

_"I slep' with Daryl."_

_Murphy went rigid as those words left Connor's mouth. If Daryl had hurt his brother, he knew a great place to hide a body. "Did you wan' it?" he asked between clenched teeth._

_Connor's laugh with watery. "You know I did, Murph."_

_Murphy visibly relaxed. "Then what's the problem?"_

_Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Connor sighed, tiredly. "It all happened so fas'. One minute, we were talkin'. Then wrestlin'. And the nex' thin' I know, we were kissin'. And you can figure ou' the res'."_

_Murphy gently put his brother up to look at him. "But, wha' abou' it has you so fucked up?"_

_"The whole time, I kep' thinkin' tha' it would be a one-off. Daryl could never like me. He doesn' like men. I though' tha' he was jus' caugh' up in the momen'," Connor explained, blinking back tears. He refused to cry over this._

_Hearing Murphy breathe out a huff of laughter brought his eyes snapping up, fury blazing in those sapphire pools._

_Murphy brought his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, Conn, but you really don' know, do you?"_

_"Know wha'?"_

_Murphy leaned towards Connor, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Remember when we were younger and Ma used to tell us all kinds of stories abou', Da? Remember how her eyes filled with passion and love?"_

_Connor nodded, shooting Murphy of confused look._

_Murphy grinned and shook his brother gently. "That's the same way Daryl looks at you when you're no' lookin'. I've been watchin' you guys dance around each other for months and, to be hones', it's fuckin' sickenin'! I've been waitin' for one of you to pull your heads ou' of your asses and make a move."_

_Connor shook his head in disbelief. "Even if tha' was true, he won' wan' me back now."_

_"Why no'?"_

_"... I lef' when he was sleepin'," Connor mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut._

_The silence that followed seemed to stretch on before Murphy sighed and mumbled something that sounded like, 'fuckin' retard'. "You can fix tha'. Jus' go and talk to him, he always listens to you."_

_Before Conner could reply, the door flew open and in walked and irritated looking Daryl._

_Connor stood up quickly, wanting to run to the hunter, but he held himself back in case Murphy was wrong._

_"Okay. I'm gonna go have a smoke," Murphy said, sensing the tension in the room. He grabbed his peacoat and quickly shrugged it on before turning to see his brother and Daryl staring at each other, neither moving. "Seems you two have a lo' to talk abou'," he said loudly before walking out of the loft and down the stairs, laughing quietly to himself._

_Connor stood still, eyes not leaving Daryl's. He didn't know what to say. He just waited for the inevitable rejection._

_"Connor. Why did you leave?"_

_Out of all the things he had imagined Daryl saying, that was not one of them. "I-I wanted to save you the trouble of kickin' me ou'."_

_Daryl looked taken aback. "Why did you think I would kick you out?"_

_Connor crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, lowering his head so hr didn't have to look into those stormy grey eyes he loved so much._

_"Connor."_

_The pressure of fingers underneath his chin made him look up, jumping slightly when he saw that Daryl now stood in front of him._

_"I finally have you. Why would I give that up?"_

_Connor's eyes went wide and his breathing hitched. "Wha'?"_

_A small and loving smile lit up Daryl's face. A smile that Connor had never seen before. He found it very hard to look away. "Connor, what we just did, didn't you notice that it wasn't sex? We made love."_

_The blonde's eyes closed as he thought about all the soft caresses, the tender kisses, the quiet words of admiration, trying to contain a shudder of desire. Judging by the chuckle Daryl let out, he had failed. "I never though' tha' you could even wan' me like tha'. I dreamed, but I never though' it would happen.'_

_Daryl sighed and leaned his forehead against the Irishman's. "Same with you. I thought  if I let you know how I felt, you'd laugh, or kick my ass. But, today, I couldn't help myself. The way you looked pinned underneath me, I had to kiss you. If only just the once. But, you kissing back? Not what I expected."_

_"I thought' tha' if it was my only chance to be with you, I would take whatever I could ge'," Connor said, hands resting on Daryl chest over his rapidly beating heart. "I'm sorry I lef'."_

_Daryl shook his head, arms slipping around Connor's waist. "It doesn't matter. You should know now though that, now that I have you, I won't let you go very easily."_

_A sly grin slid into Connor's face. "Wha' makes you think tha' I would ever wan' you to?"_

_Daryl laughed as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Connor's, holding him tightly._

Connor smiled at the memory. Just like Murphy to give his wisdom, then leave. Typical. If Murphy was here, he'd give Daryl an earful and then a good beating for being gone so long. He would find Murphy, no matter what.

Connor lifted his head as he heard footsteps approaching and saw Hershel heading his way. He waved a hand in greeting. "Somethin' I can help you with, Doc?"

Hershel nodded. "I'm going to need you in there. If Rick still can't give blood, you're the only one who can save that boy."

Connor nodded grimly as he turned off his heating pad and unwrapped it from his leg. Standing up gingerly as his head still swam, he followed Hershel into the room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love how Connor can talk sense into just about anyone?

Hershel leaned over Carl as he took his pulse, frowning at how slow it was. "He's still losing blood faster than we can replace it. And what the swelling in his abdomen, we can't wait any longer, or he's just going to slip away." He looked at the two parents, seriousness in his eyes. "Now I need to know right now if you want me to do this, because I think your boy is out of time."

Rick nodded as Lori stood there, silent.

"You have to make a choice," Hershel insisted.

"Wha' choice?" Connor asked, leaning up against the far wall. "There is no choice. You do it. You le' Hershel save his life."

Rick turned to his wife, eyes pleading. "Lori?"

"I don't know," Lori whispered. Her debate with herself tearing her in two.

"You don' fuckin' know?!" Conner roared, making Lori jump in fright as he stalked towards her. "This is your son! You are his mother, you can' jus' le' him die!"

"I don't want him in this world!" Lori screamed, anger set in her eyes. "Not this world. Not when he has to run and fight everyday to stay alive. That's no way for a child to live."

"People have been livin' like tha' long before the world wen' to hell," Connor snapped, glaring at the brunette. "And they never le' their children jus' die."

Lori opened her mouth to protest before Rick took her arm and spun her around, looking at his wife desperately. "Lori. This is our son. _Our_ son. And I am not willing to give up on him. Not now. Not when he needs us."

Lori closed her eyes tightly and took in a shuddering breath before she turned to Herschel. "Do it."

"Patricia! Bring the table and the supplies!" Hershel called out into the house. He started pulling down the blankets from Carl's sweaty form, pushing them out of the way. "Okay, get the corner of that bed," Herschel said as Patricia came in with a metal table.

Connor came over and grab the thin sheet under Carl, gathering it up, preparing to lift it as Rick grab the IV bag, placing it on the sheet before he took the pillow, gently, from underneath Carl's head, allowing him to lay flat.

"Okay, on three. One, two, three."

Hershel, Rick, Lori and Connor each grabed a corner of the sheet and lifted, carrying Carl over to the table and set him down as gently as possible, arranging him so he was level.

Patricia brought over a metal tub full of surgical tools and set it within easy reach of Hershel.

"Connor."

Connor looked over at Patricia as she started soaking some towels in clean water. "Grab that lamp on the table and bring it here. Take the shade off."

Connor nodded and did she asked, tossing the shade on the bed as he set it as close to Carl as he could, pulling the cords to turn it on.

She nodded her thanks as she finished setting everything out, handing Hershel a scalpel.

Hershel's hand hesitated above the boy as he looked up at Rick. "Rick, Lori.  you may want to step out."

Both frozen in place as they stared at their son, they didn't hear the truck's engine rumble in the distance.

Connor bolted to the window to see a faded, blue truck skid to a stop in front of the house. 'they're back!" he called, running out the door to help with the equipment. He skidded to a halt on the porch when he noticed it was only Shane in the truck, dread coiling in his stomach. He shook it away when he heard the screen door open behind him and took off down the stairs as fast as his leg would allow him, grabbing the bags off of Shane and handing them to Hershel when he got close enough.

"Carl?" Shane wheezed, out of breath and limping.

"Still alive," Connor reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Otis?"

Shane jumped at Hershel's question, shaking his head as his eyes lit up with fear.

Connor saw Hershel blink back tears as he tried to compose himself. "We say nothing to Patricia," he choked out, "not till after. I need her." He scrambled back into the house, bags in hand.

Connor bowed his head for the loss of a good man. There were so very few left in the world. He heard sniffling and saw Maggie crying, trying to keep it together so as not to alert Patricia. He walked over and hugged her tight, letting her muffle her sobs into his chest. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He led her back into the house, sitting here at the kitchen table as he got her a tissue and some water.

"Thank you," she said, dabbing her eyes.

Connor took a deep breath and rubbed his face, feeling an itch underneath his skin. "I'm gonna go have a smoke. Will you be okay?"

Maggie nodded, taking a sip of her water, cup spilling over slightly as her hands shook.

"I'll sit with her," Glenn said. He had been out in the hallway, trying to figure out how to approach Maggie without upsetting her further. "If that's okay?"

Maggie gave him a small smile as he sat down, thankful for his company.

Despite everything that had happened, Connor found himself smiling as he watched Maggie and Glenn, feeling something grow between the two. He shook his head fondly as he stepped outside, letting the cool Georgia night air wash over him. He sat down in the chair Maggie had occupied when they first arrived, wincing as his leg stretched out and noticing that the pain had diminished. He laughed to himself as he realized that his pant leg was still slashed. He would sew it up tomorrow, he thought to himself as he dug the sections of rope out of his pocket and began tying the tattered remains of his jeans together.

As he worked,he began to pray. He prayed for Carl, for Otis. He prayed for Sophia and Carol as well. For Murphy, his mom, Daryl. Prayed for anybody that was still alive that they would remain so. He prayed for no harm to come to his group. He wouldn't let anything hurt them again.

Connor was startled out of his prayers by a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. He looked up to see Rick,eyes glazed and face pale. Connor wasn't surprised, he was sure he looked the same with all the blood he had given. "Somethin' on your mind, Rick?"

Rick shook his head as he sat on the porch next to Connor, eyes gazing out into the darkness. "I just wanted to thank you for helping to keep my son alive."

Connor waved him off. "I couldn' jus' sit there while you killed yourself to keep him goin'. I couldn' le' the both of you die." He took out his pack of smokes and shook them. "You mind?"

Rick shook his head.

Conor lit his cigarette and breathed in the smoke, exhaling slowly, relishing the burn in his lungs.

"I never could've asked for that."

Connor smiled, tipping his head back against the house. "You never have to ask."

They both turned towards the screen door as it opened, revealing Lori. She took a seat next to her husband, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Lori," Connor grumbled.

She turned her head to look at him, eyes swimming with fear and defiance.

Connor leaned forward in his chair so he could look into her eyes, the glowing head of the cherry reflecting off of his own. "You don' say anythin' to Carl abou' wha' you said in tha' room."

She opened her mouth to retort, but stopped when Connor held up his hand.

"A mother is supposed to protec' her child. It would kill him if he found ou' you wanted him to die. You can' say anythin' to him abou' it," Connor said, not breaking the eye contact.

Lori at least had the decency to look ashamed as she nodded, head resting against her husband once again.

Rick glanced over his shoulder at Connor, nodding his head in appreciation.

Connor nodded back. He only said what needed to be said. At least Daryl wasn't there to hear Lori. He wouldn't have hesitated to get in her face and call her a stupid bitch. Connor grinned to himself as he imagined Daryl with that fire in his eyes. It always appeared when he was really passionate about something.

Hearing footsteps approach the door, Connor stood up, leaning against the railing to try and catch a glimpse of who was coming out. His heart pounded in his chest when he saw Hershel push through the door, drying his freshly washed hands with a towel.

Rick and Lori both got to their feet as they waited anxiously for the news about their son.

"He seems to have stabilized," Hershel said, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Connor collapsed back into his chair with a smile as he watched Rick double over with relief, like all of the weight on his shoulders had dropped away. He reached up and pulled Hershel into a tight hug, silently thanking him for saving his son.

Lori had a big smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She kept covering her mouth with her hands when she didn't know what to say. "I don't have words," she finally gasped, letting the tears escape her eyes.

"I don't either. I wish I did." Hershel smiled sadly. "How do I tell Patricia about Otis?"

The relief that they all felt washed away as they remember the life that was lost to save Carl's.

After a few moments of thinking, Rick turned to his wife. "You go to Carl." He turned to Hershel. "I'll go with Hershel."

Connor followed as all three of them walked inside. He stopped by the entryway, watching as Lori went to her son and Rick and Hershel found Patricia. He couldn't have prepared himself for the agonized cry that left her mouth as she was told about her husband.

Connor reached into his shirt and pulled out his rosary, gripping it tightly in his hands, eyes squeezed shut as he prayed once more, Patricia's sobs ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays my loves!

The next morning, Connor found himself outside of the farmhouse on the steps, shaking hand bringing a cigarette to his pale lips. He inhaled the smoke deeply, bringing his other hand up to rub at his tired eyes as he slowly exhaled. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before. After Hershel had told them Carl was stabilized, it was a brief period of relief. Carl had lost a lot of blood from the surgery and still needed more to fully recover. Both Rick and Connor had given another unit each. Rick had promptly passed out after his donation, leaving Connor to keep his eyes on both him and a sleeping Lori while he gave his own transfusion.

He didn't dare sleep himself. He kept a close watch on the Grimes family, especially when Shane came in to sit with them as well. Something seemed really off-putting about him if Connor was honest. Shane hadnseemed terrified when he got back. Now, Connor could see madness in his eyes as they darted, possessively, between Lori and Carl. He knew he was going to have to keep a close eye on him.

"Hey."

Connor looked up and saw Maggie holding out of coffee mug to him. "Oh, you are a treasure," he said thankfully, stubbing the butt of his cigarette on the heel of his boot before taking the cup, swallowing the better liquid.

"Thought you could use that. I didn't see you sleep at all last night," she explained.

"Much obliged." He took another sip and groaned at that taste. It had been months since he'd last had coffee. He forgot how much he missed it. "You didn' ge' any sleep either?"

Maggie shrugged as she took a seat next to him on the steps. "Kept thinking about Otis. I've known him since I was a kid. He's always been family."

"I'm sorry," Connor said, head bent in memory. "He was a good man."

"Yeah, he was." Maggie sighed, pushing down the lead she felt in her stomach. "Kept going down to see Carl to get my mind off it. That's how I know you didn't sleep. I wanted to come in, but I didn't want to disturb you."

Connor shook his head, swallowing another mouthful. "You wouldn' have been a bother. I've been on me own fer a month now. It's nice to be around people again."

"You lose somebody?"

Connor nodded. My brother. He's no' dead," he quickly added when he saw Maggie about to offer her condolences. "We go' separated abou' a month ago. He's ou' there somewhere. I jus' need to find him."

"I hope you do," Maggie said, smiling sadly. "Family's too important now-a-days."

"Always been importan'." He shot his own smile at her.

Connor's ears perked up as he heard the tell-tale rumble of a motorcycle approaching. "T-Dog!" He called, grin stretching his lips. "Go let Rick know they're here."

T-Dog nodded and went into the house. He had been gathering rocks with Maggie's family to give Otis a 'burial'. He wanted to help out as a thank you for helping them. He was still a little pale and weak from the infection, but he was looking, and feeling, a lot better.

Connor stood up as Daryl came into view, leading the RV on his bike into the yard. Rick and Lori came out just as everyone was exiting the RV. Connor felt his face fall as he noticed that Sophia still wasn't with them. He had really hoped that after the miracle of Carl surviving, that they would find Sophia as well.

Connor went to stand by Daryl as Rick and Lori addressed the group.

"How is he?" Dale asked, fear etched onto his face.

"He'll pull through," Lori said, smile and frown tugging at her lips simultaneously. "Thanks to Hershel and his people."

Connor clenched his teeth to hold back the growl he felt rising in his chest. He couldn't believe that Lori still wished or her son to be dead after everything that had happened.

"And Shane," Rick said, nodding over at him. "We would have lost Carl if not for him. And Connor. I still can't thank you enough."

"What'd he do?" Daryl asked, eyebrow cocked.

"He did a lot more than I would've expected out of anyone, especially someone we just met," Rick said, clapping a hand on Conner's shoulder. "The only reason I'm still standing is because Connor gave his blood to Carl. I couldn't give anymore, or I would have died along with him."

Daryl was speechless. He didn't know what to say as everybody sent their thank yous to Connor and Hershel. He shouldn't be surprised though, Connor always had a soft spot for kids. Daryl shook himself. Where the hell did that come from?

"You havin' an internal debate with yourself?"

Darryl looked over to see Connor with the cheeky grin plastered on his face. He was about to tell the Irishman to fuck off when he saw the mug in his hand. "Is that coffee?"

Connor snorted as he handed the half empty mug to Daryl, watching as he threw it back in one gulp with an appreciative moan. Connor had to suppress a shiver at the sound. He forgot how much of a caffeine junkie Daryl was.

"I see you can walk a bit better," Daryl said, handing back the, now, empty mug.

Connor nodded. "Yeah, these people took care of all of us. And in return, they los' family." He pointed to a couple of trees with a wheelbarrow full of stones sitting underneath. "They're holdin' a ceremony for him over there."

Daryl nodded, already beginning to walk over when Connor caught a glimpse of his back. He held back a gasp as he took in the leather vest with angel wings stitched on the back. He knew that vest well.

Back when Murphy, Connor and Daryl had first become friends, Daryl told him that his birthday was nothing to be celebrated. The twins begged to differ. They were determined to make their first birthday in Boston a memorable one.

They celebrated it at McGinty's, closing it down early and having a night of drinking with them, Doc and Rocco. It was a night that lasted well into the morning hours and ended with Connor and Murphy gifting him with the vest.

Connor had picked it out, but it was a gift from both of them.

He had been looking everywhere for it after Merle had stolen Daryl, but he was glad that it had been with him the whole time.

Everyone was already gathered under the cover of trees by the time Connor had finally reached them. The Greene family was beginning to make Otis's grave with the collected stones. Connor wanted to help, as he still felt it was somewhat his fault for not insisting that Carl stay with the group in the first place, but he knew he should let Otis's family take care of it. It would mean more.

Connor stood next to Daryl, clutching his Rosary, as Hershel began the eulogy. "Blessed be, God," he began, open Bible in his hands. "Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Praise be to Him for the gift of our brother, Otis. For his span of years, for his abundance of character. Otis, who gave his life to save a child's. Now, more than ever, our most precious asset."

Members of the family placed a stone, like a flower on a coffin, on the mound throughout the eulogy. Everybody looked around guiltily for feeling relief in the face of tragedy. Everyone except Shane. Connor glanced up every now and then to see Shane's reaction, uneasiness rolling in his stomach as he saw the blank stare. No Remorse, no guilt in his eyes. They were void of any emotion.

"We thank you, God," Hershel continued, unaware of the anxiousness around him, "for the peace he enjoys in Your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace. Shane?"

Shane jumped at the sound of his name, not paying attention to the words Hershel had spoken.

"Will you speak for Otis?"

"I'm not good at it," Shane said, trying to pull away from the group. "I'm sorry."

"You were the last one with him," Patricia said, voice thick with unshed tears. "You shared his final moments. Please, I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning." She held back sobs as tears finally escaped her eyes, pleading with Shane to hear about her husband.

"Okay," Shane nodded, averting his gaze. "We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up."

Connor saw a flash of anger darken Shane's eyes as he told the story. A story. That's what it felt like to Connor. 

" _We've gotta save the boy._ See, that's what he said. He gave me his backpack, he shoved me ahead." Shane was twitching and moving from foot to foot, getting more and more animated as the story went on. " _Run,_ he said. He said _, I'll take the rear, I'll cover you_ and when I looked back..."

Daryl glared at Shane as he trailed off. He knew the story was bullshit. He glanced at Connor to see if he thought Shane was lying and saw a barely contain sneer on the blonde's face, fingers twitching for the guns strapped to his thighs. Daryl steppedvcloser and bumped his shoulder against Connor's, getting his attention. "Not here," he whispered.

Connor took a deep breath and nodded, trying to let Daryl's words and proximity calm him down. 'Not here' just meant 'later' to Connor. Later to put a bullet between Shane's lying, murdeous eyes.

Shane limped heavily to the stone mound. "If not for Otis," he grabbed a stone from the wheelbarre, "I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl, too. It was Otis. He saved us both." He looked at that the Greene family, tears streaming down most of their faces. "If any death ever had meaning, it was his." He placed his stone on the mound.

 Daryl saw Connor's hand move to his Beretta and quickly knocked it away.

"Wha' the fuck, Daryl?" Connor quietly growled, trying not to draw attention from the departing group. He could feel the prayer on the tip of his tongue and his trigger finger twitch. The Veritas tattoo on his hand burned with the lies Shane had told. "You know that's no' wha' happened. He murdered tha' man to make himself the hero."

"I know," Daryl hissed, pushing Connor's hand away again when it reached for one of his guns.

"Then le' me do it!"

"Not now! If you do, we'll be kicked out and Carl won't have a chance to heal," Daryl reasoned. He would love to put a gun to Shane's head too, but now was not the time. "This is the perfect base to recuperate and find Sophia and I am not going to let you fuck that up, Mick. Once the kid is healed and the girl's back, you can cut off his limbs, chop his head off, rip his dick off, I don't care. Just fucking wait." He turned around and stormed off, berating himself with every step he took. He hated that he kept snapping at the Irishman, but until his head stoped fucking with him, he didn't really know how to handle his, dare he say it, feelings.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my darlings! Did you guys have good holidays? Any good presents? I hope whatever you guys did was fun and memorable. Sending out all my love and Connaryl feels and I can't believe that the next time I post, it will be 2017. Where the hell did the year go? And my sad feels to those of you mourning Carrie Fisher's death like I am. She and her mother were amazing people and will be missed terribly.

"How long's this girl been missing? Hershel asked.

"This'll be day three," Rick answered.

Daryl, Conner, Shane, Andrea and Rick were all gathered around a truck with Hershel and Maggie, as they attempted to make a plan to search for Sophia. But, with injuries and inexperience throughout the group, it was proving to be difficult.

Maggie placed a map on the hood of the truck. "County survey map," she said, unrolling it," shows terrain and elevations."

"This is perfect," Shane said, wincing a he tried to distribute his weight off of his injured ankle.

Connor eyed him warily. His hand still itched for his gun as he took in Shane's dismissive face, but he remembered what Daryl had said earlier and knew that he was right. He couldn't risk it. They didn't need to be kicked out before Carl was healed and they found Sophia. It wouldn't do them any favors. He took his eyes off of Shane and looked down at the map.

"We can finally get this thing organized," Rick said, a slight upturn to his voice. "We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams."

"Not you," Hershel said, shaking his head. "Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five miles in this heat before passing out. Connor gave two, but with how his knee is, I wouldn't chance it. And your ankle," he nodded toward Shane, "push it now, you'll be laid up a month. No good to anybody."

"Guess it's just me," Daryl said, leaning over to get a better look at the map. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there."

"When I was with you guys yesterday, we are headin' back to the highway, righ' abou' this way." He pointed to the creek formation, following it to the highway. "That's West. Daryl, where did you lose her trail?"

Daryl studied the map for a moment, trying to pinpoint where they stopped. "Right there. It was edging on East when we lost it."

"But you veered off. The church where you found me is South of where you were," Connor said.

"That's more my fault," Rick said. "We were heading East when we heard the bells go off. I just ran. Thought it was her."

Connor looked back at the map. "If you had a little further than where you were, before the church, there's a lo' of fla' land. I'm guessin' farmland. May be a few houses there tha' she could be hidin' in."

Everybody looked astonished at Connor, silently trying to figure out how he knew all that.

Daryl just looked him up and down, trying to hold back a smile. "I really did teach you to track, didn't I?"

Connor shrugged, grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Among other things."

Andrea coughed behind her hand to smother a laugh. Rick flat-out smiled. Maggie, Shane and Hershel just looked confused.

"I can still be useful," Shane cut in, shifting everyone's attention back to the task at hand. "I'll drive out to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back."

"All right," Rick said, glancing around. "Tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right."

"We can't have everybody out there with just knives then. We promised them gun training. It's time to deliver," Shane reminded Rick.

"You an instructor?" Connor asked, fingering the butt of his own guns.

Shane nodded. "Certified."

Connor turn to Rick. "If you're teachin', I'd like to help. You already know how handy I am with a gun."

"If you're offering, we could use the help," Rick replied, small smile on his face.

"We've managed so far without needing guns," Hershel said, "I'd prefer you not carrying them on my property."

"You ever have a herd of those things walking by you before?" Shane asked, sneer on his face.

"We're guests here," Connor snarled, stepping toe-to-toe with Shane. "Wha' he says, goes."

"You got a problem with me, MacManus?" Shane stared Connor down. "'Cause we can sort that out right here."

Connor clenched his fists, but was pulled back before he could take a swing.

Daryl glared at him as he leaned in, whispering, "You never learn, do you?" Pulling him to his side of the truck, away from Shane.

Connor sighed, heavily. "If you remembered me, you'd know tha' by now."

"This is your property," Rick cut in, "and we _will_ respect that." He shot a pointed glare over at Shane and Connor as he laid his revolver on the hood. 

Connor nodded, sheepishly, and placed his Berettas next to Rick's. "I'd still like to keep my bow, if it's all the same?" Connor asked, eyeing Hershel. 

He, thankfully, nodded.

With a half of frustration, Shane followed suit. "Somebody's got to ask; What happens if we find her and she's bit?"

Rick ducked his head, biting his lip in thought. "You do what has to be done," he finally said.

"What do you tell her mother if that happens?" Maggie asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

"The truth," Andrea said. 

Shane took his gun off the hood and placed it back in the waistband of his pants.

Connor grabbed his as well. If Shane still had his gun, he was not going to be caught unarmed around him.

"I'll secure the weapons," Shane volunteered.

Andrea scoffed in protest.

"Once we find a practice range off site, everyone can have them back, but until then, you gotta give them up." He turned to Hershel. "I do request that we have someone on lookout. Preferably with a rifle. Dale's got experience."

Herschel remained quiet, offering up his answer through silence.

"Our people would feel less inclined to carry a gun. One person is all we ask," Rick said, almost pleadingly.

After a brief hesitation, Hershel nodded.

Daryl walked off, heading towards Lori. She still had the gun he gave her the day before and he wanted it for his search. He only had two arrows left and it would be nice to have another form of protection, other than his knife, incase he got into a tight spot. "Hey, Lori!" he called as he got close enough. "You still got that pistol I gave you yesterday?"

Lori thought for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I forgot I even had it. Sorry." She began looking through a pile of dirty clothes sitting next to her.

"Daryl, you looking for this?"

Daryl turned to see Glenn holding the gun out to him. He nodded and took it, stuffing it down the back of his jeans.

"Where'd you find it?" Lori asked.

"You dropped it when you went with Maggie yesterday." Glenn shrugged. "I just picked it up along with your pack. No big deal."

Daryl nodded. "Appreciate it." He turned to go to his bike for a canteen. If he found Sophia today, he was sure she was going to be thirsty. He had just started digging through the bags when Shane came up to him, gun bag in hand.

"Need your gun, Daryl."

"I'm going out. Can't it wait till I get back?" he growled, not taking his attention away from his task.

"We both know you won't give it up then. Might as well just hand it over now," Shane said, holding out his hand expentantly.

Daryl sighed and slapped the gun, harshly, into Shane's hand.

Shane smiled as he placed it into the bag, zipping it closed. "Not like you even really need it, huh?" he said before walking off.

"Asshole," Daryl growled, finally finding the canteen he was looking for. He placed the strap over his shoulder, grabbing a water bottle to fill it up.

Hee tossed the empty bottle back into the bag he got it from and turned to survey the area, checking if there was anything else he would need, and saw Connor on the porch, talking to Rick. He saw Connor's eyes survey the group before landing on him. He smiled at Daryl before continuing his conversation with Rick.

"I wanted to thank you for lettin' me stay," he told Rick, sincerely. Connor realized he'd never actually thanked him for taking him in. It's only been a day since they had found him and he already felt like one of their own. He would protect this group with everything he had.

Rick shook his head. "Don't mention it. It's been good having you with us. Glen told me what you did for them yesterday and everything that you've done for my son, that's something I can never repay." Rick sighed, letting his shoulders hang in a relaxed state. "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. But, you're more than welcome to stay."

Connor smiled, clapping Rick on the shoulder. "I'm no' goin' anywhere."

Rick nodded, smiling as well.

Connor leaned against the porch railing, looking out over the group with fondness before spotting Daryl walking next to the house. "Excuse me," he said. Not waiting for an answer, he stepped off the porch, making his way towards the hunter. "Daryl!" he called out, catching up to him.

Daryl turned to him, features soft, but shoulders tensed. "What do you want?"

Connor didn't answer. Instead he leaned down and unbuckled the thigh holster from his right leg and held it out to him, Beretta still firmly in place.

Daryl shook his head, waving him off as he turned to leave again. "I'm not taking your gun, Mick."

"Dammit, Daryl." Connor raced ahead of him as quickly as he could, wincing as he came to a stop in front of him. "I saw Shane take yours. You have two arrows and a knife. You need something else in case you ge' surrounded. I know you don' trus' me, bu' take it. I'm not going to let you die ou' there jus' because you wan' to be stubborn."

Daryl nodded, reluctantly, and grabbed the holster, securing it around his own leg.

"There's a pouch righ' nex' to the gun. It has an extra clip loaded, jus' in case."

Daryl nodded, keeping his eyes downcast from the blonde.

Connor nodded as well, feeling his shoulders slump. "Well, be safe." He turned and started walking back to the group.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Daryl mumbled, quietly.

Connor still heard it and turned back towards him.

"If I don't remember anything about you, how am I supposed to believe that what you've told me is the truth? That I was in Boston? That we were together? How am I supposed to believe that?" Daryl berated himself for letting all that spill out. He was supposed to be keeping his distance from the Irishman in case he couldn't remember him at all.

But all Connor did was smile sweetly, making knots form in Daryl's stomach, before he said, "That, you're goin' to have to take on faith. But, jus' know tha' I never lied to you, Daryl. I never saw the poin'. You always found ou' the truth sooner or later." He began walking back to the group, smiling to himself. "Don' die!" he called over his shoulder, laughing when he saw Daryl flip him off. _He's comin' back._

As Connor made his way to the front of the house, he saw Dale speaking with Rick, a look of worry on his face. He stepped closer, fingers tapping his remaining gun, as he felt trouble deep within him.

"Rick, we have a problem."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2017!!!! Who's counting down the days until The Walking Dead returns? (Shoots hand up in the air and waves it around wildly.)

Connor leaned over the side of the well, Dale shining a light down into it, to see a very waterlogged Walker. "How long ya think it's been down there?" Connor asked.

"Enough to grow gills," Andrea muttered.

"Well, either way, we gotta ge' it out of there. Lord knows how badly it's contaminatin' the water," Connor said, looking around the group. "Any suggestions?"

"Put a bullet in its head," T-Dog said. "I'll get a rope, haul it out after."

"No. Not gonna happen." Maggie looked sick at the very thought.

"It's a good plan," Glenn said, looking confused.

"It's a stupid plan," Andrea said, hands on her hips.

"It's not stupid," Connor said, "jus' bad. You shoot it, water's no good."

"They're right," Shane spoke up.

"What's the only other option then? Getting it out alive?" T-Dog asked.

"So to speak," Shane answered.

"How are we gonna do that?" Glenn asked.

"We could try and distract it," Andrea suggested, biting her thumb in thought.

"With what?" Shane asked, scepticly.

"Wha' does a walker usually wan'?" Connor asked, shooting a glare at Shane. He turned to Maggie. "You go' anythin' tha' can be spared?"

Maggie thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I might have something. How you going to get it out?"

"We could lower a rope. Try to get it around it while it's occupied," Lori pitched in.

"Sounds good," Shane said, eyeing Lori. "Anybody got any rope?"

Connor took in the look that Shane had given Lori and filed it away until later. But, no matter how suspicious of Shane he felt, he couldn't hold back the grain at the mention of rope. "I go' the rope."

"Good," Shane said, nodding. "Why don't you and Maggie grab what you need. But, make it quick."

Maggie and Connor nodded and headed back to the house.

"Shane give you the creeps, or is it just me?" Maggie asked.

Connor laughed. "Tha' fella's definitely missin' somethin' in tha' head of his."

Maggie smiled. "So, yesterday, I heard you and Lori arguing. Everything okay?"

Connor nodded. "She didn' like the fac' tha' I tried to give her boy my blood. I can understand why; You can' really trus' people you jus' met now-a-days. We were fortunate to have you lot turn ou' so good-hearted."

She smiled again. "Well, thank you, but that's not what I meant." 

Connor quirked an eyebrow.

"I heard a bit of the argument before Dad started the surgery. I was hoping that I had heard wrong, but did Lori really say she didn't know if she wanted Carl to live?"

Connor sighed and nodded. "Aye. Rick and I both had to talk some sense into tha' woman. I've never known a mother to take the easy way ou' to preserve her own life."

"You really think that's what she wanted?" Maggie asked.

"In times like this?" Connor nodded. "Aye, I do. When your Da told us Carl didn' have much time, she didn' look worried, or sad. She looked like a huge weigh' was lifted off our shoulders. Like she was finally gettin' some peace. Me brother and I, we would always cause our Ma stress, but when it came down to it, she was always righ' there to protec' us. Strong woman, she is. I think Lori is a righ' bitch for wantin' to make her own life easier like tha'." He could have slapped himself. He knew better than that. "Pardon my French."

Maggie smiled and shook her head. "Nothing I haven't heard before."

"My ma raised me to never cuss in fron' of a woman. She'd give me a righ' smack upside the head of she'd heard tha'."

"She raised you well."

"As well as she could have." Connor shook his head, trying to shake away the negative thoughts about his mother. He was sure she was fine, but a little piece of him, that kept growing, felt like she didn't make it.

They made it to the house and split up once we got inside. Maggie going to the kitchen and Connor to the sitting room to grab his backpack. He quickly unzipped it and double checked to make sure his rope was there, before heading out to the porch to wait for Maggie.

She came out just a few seconds after he did and, together, they began walking back to the well.

"Maggie."

Maggie turned to look at the blonde.

"Wha' we talked abou', doesn' go back to the group. Rick's basically our leader and if anybody found ou' abou' wha' Lori tried to do, they would no' follow him anymore. I don' wan' the group broken up over this." Connor's eyes pleaded for Maggie to understand.

Thankfully, she nodded. "Your secret's safe with me."

He smiled at her. "Good. Because, if Daryl found ou' abou' that, we'd have to hide Lori," he laughed.

"Daryl? He's the one with the crossbow, right?"

Connor nodded.

He seems smart and very protective. You can see it in the way he talks about that little girl," Maggie commented.

"Tha' he is. He's also go' one of the bigges' hearts I've ever seen," Connor said, smiling faintly.

A knowing smile stretched across Maggie's face. "How long have you two been together?"

Connor laughed, shaking his head. "Am I tha' obvious?"

She shrugged. "It's the way you smile whenever you talk about him. So, how long?"

"Two years."

"How long have you known each other?"

"Three years . We were friends for a year before we go' together. But, technically, we've known each other for eight years-" He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm rambling. Its a very long and confusin' story."

"I'd like to hear it sometime." She gave Connor an affectionate smile as they approached the group.

"Took you both long enough," Shane snarled.

"What's your hurry? You go' people to do? Places to see?" Connor grumbled, shrugging off his pack and pulling his rope out.

Shane glared at him.

"I'm sorry, did tha' come ou' wrong?" Connor asked, standing in front of Shane with a cocky grin. "Your American terms are jus' so damn confusin'."

"Dude, how much shit do you have in that bag?" T-Dog cut in, defusing the upcoming argument.

Connor smirked. "My da taugh' me to always be prepared."

"It's a good rule to live by," Dale said, walking back to the group. "What you got there, Maggie?"

Maggie held up with metal container. "Some canned meat. Might work better if it was rotten, but it's all we can spare, really."

"That'll do fine." Dale walked over and took it, opening the lid.

"That's the biggest can of Spam I've ever seen," T-Dog said, slight see and disgust in his voice.

Connor threw his head back and laughed. "Man, you've never lived on a farm have ya?"

T-Dog shook his head.

"When ya live in a cottage with no electricity and very little to eat, things like tha' become a Godsend."

"I'll take your word for it," T-Dog said, swallowing back bile.

Connor shook his head, smiling. "How are we goin' to lower it down?"

"Well, I thought Maggie would bring something like this, so I thought the best option would be fishing line." Dale pulled out a small tackle box and pulled out a thing of fishing line, unraveling it. "We could wrap it up with this, put some hooks in it just to be sure."

"That's perfec'," Connor said as he began tying knots in his rope. "While it's eatin' tha', we could slip this around it and haul it up."

"We got ourselves a plan," Shane said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get started."

Before long, they had the canned Spam and Connor's rope lowered down into the well. Now they were just waiting for the Walker to take interest, but Connor had a sinking suspicion that that wasn't going to happen.

"He's not going for it," Dale said, pulling up the bait.

"Probably 'cause it ain't kicking and screaming," T-Dog said.

"He's right," Lori said, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. "It needs to be moving, not from a cupboard."

"We need live bait," Andrea said, eyes falling on Glenn.

One after another, everyone's eyes fell on Glenn. He looked around and sighed in defeat.

"Wai', you're no' actually thinkin' of sendin' Glenn down there, are you?" Connor asked, incredulously.

"We don't have much of a choice if we want to get it out of there," Shane said hauling up the rope and untying the knots.

"Then I'll go. I can hook tha' fucker easily," Connor insisted.

"Glenn's the smallest," Andrea reasoned. "He'll have an easier time."

"No! You can' jus' play with someone's life like that," Connor snapped. He looked around to see if anyone else objected and shook his head angrily when no one did.

"It's alright, Connor. I'll be fine," Glenn said, a slight tremor in his voice.

Connor sighed heavily. "If he dies, it's on all of you." He forcibly ripped his rope out of Shane's hands and stormed over to Glenn. " _Name one thin' you're gonna need this stupid fuckin' rope for_? Didn' think I'd be usin' it for this, Murph," he mumbled, tying it securely around the Asian boy. "I've only go' one rope. Is there another anywhere?

Everyone looked around and finally spotted one hanging on the fence a ways back.

T-Dog ran over and grabbed it, handing it Connor when got close enough.

Connor made quick work of tying it into a slip knot before handing it to Glenn.

"I'll be okay, Connor. Don't worry about me." Glenn's smile trembled.

"I'll make sure of it," Connor said, determined to keep Glenn alive. He was a good kid, very bright. He'd keep him safe. He wound the rope around the water pump and pulled it taut as Glenn sat on the edge of the well.

"We'll get you out of there in one piece, Bud," Shane called, standing behind Connor to help pull the rope.

"I'd prefer living piece of you don't mind!" Glenn shot back.

Connor smiled. Kid had spunk.

T-Dog picked up the slack behind Shane, followed by Lori, Andrea, and Dale.

Nice and slow, please," Glenn said, tremble back in his voice.

"We got you." Andrea smiled at him.

"You people are crazy!" Maggie exclaimed. She looked at Glenn with fear in her eyes, shuffling from one foot to the other.

"Keep an eye out for us?" Dale asked her.

She nodded, walking over to the well.

Glenn gave her a reassuring smile, that looked more like a grimace, before sliding down into the well.

Connor instantly heard the growls of the Walker become louder, making his grip on the rope tighten, as he slowly lowered more and more into the dark, wet cavern.

"You doing okay?" Maggie called down to Glenn.

"I'm doing great!" he called back.

Maggie turn to them and nodded.

aa creaking sound took Connor's attention away from the well as he eyed the water pump, warily.

"Little lower," Maggie told them.

Connor slowly fed more of the line down.

"Little more."

Suddenly, the pump ripped itself out of the ground, letting Glenn drop further into the Walker infested waters.

Connor instantly dove for the lip of the well, grabbing the rope with both hands and gripping tightly, haunting Glenn's rapid descent.

"Get me out of here! Get me out of here!" Glenn screamed, kicking at the Walker to keep it at bay.

Connor quickly looked back to see T-Dog holding on to the pump as everyone else grabbed on to him, before getting to his feet rope firmly clasped in hand. He dug his heels into the ground and pulled with all his might. Pull!" he shouted, feeling the rope go taut behind him. He pulled the as quickly as he could, feeling it pull against him as Glenn struggled and screamed.

"GET ME OUT!"

"Hang on, Glenn!" Connor shouted, pulling the rope faster. "Fuckin' pull!" he shouted back to the group. He gave one more hard tug before he saw Glenn's upper body pushed through the opening. He dropped the rope and grabbed Glenn, pulling him to safety out of the well. "Are you alrigh'?!"

Glenn panted on the hard ground, struggling to calm his racing heart.

"Fuckin' talk to me, man!"

"I'm good," Glenn wheezed. "I'm okay."

Connor heaved out a sigh of relief as he slapped Glenn on the back. "You scared the hell ou' of us."

"I scared you?!" Glenn laughed. "What the hell happened?"

"Pump pulled out of the ground. Luckily, Connor grabbed the rope and saved your ass," Shane explained, wiping sweat from his brow.

Glenn nodded at the blonde. "Thank you."

Connor waved him off. "Wasn' jus' me. T-Dog had an iron grip on tha' pump and everyone helped pull you ou'."

Glenn nodded at everyone, thanking them for saving him.

"I guess we're back to the drawing board then, huh?" Dale asked, waving a hand at the well.

Glenn scoffed, grinning triumphantly. "Says you." He grabbed the other rope and handed it to Dale, pulling on it to let him feel the weight.

Everyone gathered around the well, astonished when they saw that, in his fight against the Walker, Glenn had managed to get the rope around its midsection.

Connor grined brightly and whooped, pumping his fist into the air. "That's my boy!"

"How are we gonna get it out of there?" T-Dog asked. "It's too big to pull up by hand."

Maggie's eyes lit up. "Give me one second," she said and took off for the stables.

Connor walked over to Glenn and grabbed a water bottle out of his bag, handing it to him.

Glenn took it gratefully and downed half of it in one go, pouring the remaining water over his head.

Connor laughed, lighting up a cigarette. "How in the hell did you ge' the rope around tha' thin'?"

Glenn shrugged, running his fingers through his dripping wet hair. "I'm not really sure. I think I kind of kicked it on him to be honest. It's kind of a blur."

Connor nodded, exhaling a lungful of smoke. "Completely understand. The firs' job me brother and I pulled still kind of feels like tha'. It's all the adrenaline pumpin' through ya." He smirked. "I'm jus'glad it wasn' my rope you used. Would have hated to have to burn it."

Glenn laughed. "Yeah. Next to those guns of yours, that rope seems pretty important."

"Speaking of guns," Shane said, butting in, "I noticed I only collected one off you, MacManus. Where's the other one?"

Connor raised an eyebrow, taking a slow, deliberate drag off of his cigarette before answering. "I think, don' quote me on this, I'm no' sure, but I migh' have given it to Daryl since some prick took his."

Shane growled, siezing Connor by the front of his shirt. "You are one arrogant little shit, you know that?"

"Migh' have been called tha' once or twice," Connor replied, smirking.

Shane shook him. "Is this a fucking game to you? If we don't do what they say, we could be kicked out of here," he hissed, not wanting to raise alarm.

Connor narrowed his eyes at the former policeman. "And you're jus' a stickler for the rules, aren' you?"

Shane opened his mouth to reply, when he heard Lori's voice. "Shane! What has gotten into you?"

Shane tensed, glaring once more at the Irishman before releasing him. "I expect that gun when Daryl gets back," he grumbled.

Connor straightened out his shirt and smiled condescendingly at Shane. "I'll hand deliver it."

Shane sneered before walking towards Lori, not casting a second glance back.

"It still escapes me how that guy used to be a cop," Glenn said.

"I wouldn' trus' tha' guy around a child let alone a gun," Connor said, looking mournfully down at the remains of his cigarette. He was running dangerously low on his supply and in his scuffle with Shane, he had dropped it. He stubbed it into the ground with the heel of his boot, sighing. He wasn't going to waste another one just because Shane robbed him of this one.

Glenn tapped his arm, getting his attention. "Look, it's Maggie."

Connor had to hold back the sort of amusement at the age in Glenn's voice and on his face. He was looking up at Maggie atop of her horse like she hung the moon. "You go' a thin' for cowgirls, huh?" he laughed. He could relate. Though, his taste leaned more towards redneck hunters with emotional baggage.

As Maggie approached the group, she quickly dismounted her horse and led him the rest of the way on foot.

"We're gonna use that?" T-Dog asked, eyes wide.

"Horses are the best at pulling heavy loads." Maggie patted the horse's neck. "She'll get the job done."

Connor walked up to the horse and held up his hand, palm facing her, waiting to see if he had permission to touch her. He smiled when she pressed her muzzle against his hand, stroking up to her head and down her neck. "Hey girl. You wan' to help us ou'? We could sure use a strong girl like you."

She snorted happily and pushed further into him, sniffing around his head and neck as he laughed.

"Tha' a girl," he said, lightly brushing her mane with his fingers.

He turned around to grab the rope tied to the Walker and was met with wide-eyed stares.

"Wha'?"

Maggie smiled, taking the rope from his hand and tying it to the horse's saddle. "You worked with horses before, I take it?"

"Lived on a sheep farm las' few years," Connor explained, still stroking the horse. "But, growin' up and Ireland, you had to learn sooner or later."

She nodded. "You're very good with them."

Connor tipped an invisible hat to her. "Why thank you, ma'am," he said in a Southern accent.

Maggie laughed before turning to the group. "We're all set."

"Alright, let's get this over with," Shane said, taking position and grabbing a section of rope closest to the well.

Everyone followed suit, grabbing onto the rope and planting their feet firmly.

"On three. One. Two. Three!"

They all started pulling as Maggie urged the horse to move forward, helping to take the brunt of the weight. Slowly, hand-over-hand, they lifted the oversized, waterlogged Walker out of the well.

T-Dog stood at the lip of the well, watching the progress, making sure nothing went wrong.

"Pull!" Shane shouted, feeling the Walker begin to move at the smell of fresh meat. "Come on, y'all!"

"Almost there, guys!"

"All together!"

They pulled harder.

"Keep it coming. Almost there," T-Dog directed.

"Watch it there, T," Connor called as the head of the Walker pushed through the opening of the well.

T-Dog jumped back as an arm came out at him, along with half of a body. "Just a little more." He covered his nose as the stench of rotting flesh and dirty water hit his senses, making him gag.

Connor felt the rope tighten in his grip as the walker caught on the edge of the well. "It's stuck!"

Their muscle strained as they pulled harder, trying to dislodge it as it struggled to get to the fresh food that could smell.

For one moment, Connor felt a surge of triumph as he felt the weight lessen, only to realize the extra weight that was gone was now falling back down the well with a heavy splash as it hit the water.

All of their pulling head caused the weakened skin to tear, ripping the walker and half.

Everyone looked in disbelief and resignation at the upper half of the undead as it still tried to reach for one of them. All their hard work was down the drain. Literally.

"We should seal off the well," Dale said, sighing.

"Might be a good idea," Shane mumbled.

"Well, what do we do about-"

Andrea was cut off as T-Dog started violently smashing in the Walker's face with a pipe, not stopping until it resembled ground meat.

He stood up, breathing heavily as he took in all the sickened and horrified glances. "Good thing we didn't do something stupid like shoot it." He tossed the pipe on the ground and walked away.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my world go round!

"Shit," Connor breathed, watching T-Dog's retreating form with worry.

"What the hell was that all about?" Andrea asked, staring at what was once the Walker's head.

"Doesn't matter. We need that well sealed off, make sure this doesn't happen again," Shane barked, turning to face everyone. "First things first, let's get this Walker out of here."

"Shane, we can't forget what just happened," Lori said, bewildered look on her face.

"That's exactly what we're gonna do," Shane snapped, we have more important things to think about. Andrea and I are bringing Carol back to the highway. Glenn and Maggie are going on a run. We need to dispose of this rotting sumbitch." He kicked the torn apart carcass. "And somebody needs to seal off this fucking well before we find more Walkers in it."

Everybody stared at Shane, unnerved by his little speech. He was about to open his mouth again, but Connor had had enough.

He marched forward and grabbed one of the Walker's arms, dragging it to the side of the well before kicking it in. He turned towards the self-proclaimed leader and glared. "One problem solved. Why don' you go and le' the res' of us do wha' we need to do?"

"You got some balls talking to me like that, MacManus." Shane stepped close, angry face inches from Connor's. "The little faggot finally stepping out of his shell? Too bad Daryl's not here to keep his little bitch in line. But, maybe, on your knees is the only place you'll be obedient. So, why don't you just drop down and-"

Shane was cut off by the fist Connor drove into his jaw, effectively shutting his mouth and knocking him on his ass. "You've done enough for one day," he growled, watching as Shane wiped the blood from his mouth. "Go, before I throw you down the well with tha' fuckin' corpse."

Shane got to his feet, sneering as he stalked past the Irishman, knocking his shoulder hard.

Connor turned back to the rest of the group, locking eyes with each of them in turn. "This doesn' ge' back to Rick, or Daryl. Got it?"

Andrea was the first to nod. She squeezed Connor's arm gently as she passed to catch up with Shane.

He heard Lori scoff as she stomped towards the house. He shook his head and turned his eyes on Dale, Glenn and Maggie.

Dale shrugged. "It got kind of crazy out here for a bit. Hard to tell what exactly happened." He smiled and clapped Connor on the shoulder as he headed towards the RV.

Glenn raised his hands in a placating manner.

Maggie shot him a withering smile.

Connor walked over to them, running and handling the horse's muzzle to sooth her. "You okay, Maggie?"

She nodded. "Never seen that before."

"Never seen a Walker up close?' Glenn asked.

She shook her head. "Never seen one killed before."

"Sadly, it's somethin' you're goin' to have to ge' used to," Connor said, smiling apologetically.

"Hopefully not." She looked over at the well and sighed. "What am I going to do about that thing?"

Connor smiled at her, reassuringly. "Le' me worry abou' tha'. You and Glenn jus' go and do wha' you need to and I'll have it finished by the time you're back."

Maggie smiled at Connor, thankful. "Thanks, Connor. There's a shed behind the house where we keep the generator. It should have everything you need."

Connor nodded. "Be careful ou' there."

They both nodded as Maggie led Glenn and the horse back to the stables. "Come on Glenn, let's go get your horse ready."

"Horse?" came Glenn's worried reply.

Connor threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

 

Daryl slowly made his way through the trees, keeping his eyes open for any sign of Sophia. He had been searching for roughly three hours and he had yet to see any human trail. Just a broken trails of the dead.

He reached up and fingered the ring around his neck, thinking about Connor. With Shane acting the way he was and Connor stepping up, he was sure to see a gun pointed at the blonde sooner or later. And when that happened, Daryl would be right there with his own gun pointed between Shane's eyes.

Daryl sighed. His brain was still in chaos from everything that had happened. Finding the man who had hunted its dreams for years was something he never thought possible. Finding out that the dreams were memories was not something he was prepared to handle. He just hoped that he would be able to remember soon. It was driving him crazy not knowing.

Daryl focused on his task again as he came up on a clearing, staring up at and abandoned looking farmhouse, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well," Daryl stated, "guess I know that Mick a beer."

_"Looks like ya owe me another one," Connor laughed as he was pushed up against the wall of McGinty's men's room._

_"Put it on my tab," Daryl growled, attacking Connor's pliant lips with his own as the blonde moaned._

_Connor had made a bet with Daryl earlier in the night, stating that he could get him riled up enough to fuck him in the bathroom before last call._

_Connor won._

_Again._

_Daryl's lips travel down Connor's neck, stopping to bite and suck at the Virgin Mary tattoo, while moving his hips against the lithe man._

_Connor threw his head back, gasping. "Keep doin' tha' and I'll say fuck the tab." He carded his fingers through Daryl's hair, whimpering when Daryl sunk his teeth into his collarbone._

_Daryl ran his hands down Connor's body, slipping his hands under Connor's thighs to pull his legs up and around his waist, pushing the blue eyed man harder into the wall. He kissed and sucked his way back up Connor's neck to his ear, giving the flesh of tender bite. "I'd rather fuck you," he breathed, huskily._

_Connor groaned and chased his lover's lips, sealing them together in a heat filled kiss as they rocked against each other, creating delicious friction._

_Connor had just reached between them to undo Daryl's jeans when the doorknob rattled, unable to open as they had locked it when they entered._

_"Oh, come on! You guys better not be fucking in there!" came Rocco's annoyed voice._

_They pulled away with a groan, Connor thunking his head back against the wall. "Rocco, you fuckin' cockblock!"_

_"Can't you guys keep it in your pants for five fucking minutes?"_

_Connor snorted. "Are you shittin' me? Have you_ seen _him?"_

_Daryl chuckled, face buried in Connor's shoulder._

_"What? Even_ I'm _better looking than the fucking hillbilly!"_

_Rocco's protests were drowned out due to Connor and Daryl's loud laughing._

"Fuck!" Daryl cried, falling to his knees at the white-hot pain that lanced through his head. He gripped his hair tightly, breathing through his nose as he willed the pain away.

With every vision he saw, the pain just got worse. He wished that they would just stop. Maybe he wasn't meant to remember his life in Boston. How could this much pain beworth three years of memory?

He shook his head, wincing at another stab of pain. He couldn't think like that. If his memories were starting to come back now, then they must be important.

He shakily got to his feet and focused again on the house, pulling his crossbow off his back as he took a step towards it. He pushed through the pain, sighing in relief as it seemed to diminish the more he moved.

He slowly made his way to the house, looking around to see if any Walkers had stumbled upon him as he was lost in another memory. As he got to the front door, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever he might find inside, before raising his leg and kicking the door open.

He cautiously stepped forward, wincing as the floor make loud creaking sounds every time he stepped. He checked down the hallway, towards the back of the house. Finding nothing, he turned back and checked the room next to the entrance and up the stairs.

When still he found nothing, he noticed a kitchen off to his right. Cautiously, he stepped inside, eyes darting around quickly as he scanned the small space.

Light flashing off of metal made him stop as he noticed a trash can by the door. It was full, but what jumped out at him was the newly-opened Sardine can resting at the top. He picked it up, bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, determining that it had been opened at least 24 hours prior.

Daryl's head snapped up as he heard a creaking sound right in front of him. He dropped the can and brought his crossbow up, slowly making his way towards what looked to be a pantry.

He grabbed the door and opened it quickly, sighing when he saw he was right. He saw a couple of canned goods that he could have brought back with him, if he had remembered to bring a bag. He pushed aside a couple of cans, seeing a small, rectangular box tucked into the corner. He fished it out, grinning when he saw that it was a half full pack of cigarettes.

"Someone was smoking when they weren't supposed to," he laughed to himself. He slipped the pack into his back pocket and turned to leave, when he noticed a blanket sticking out of the bottom of the pantry. He bent down and saw that it wasn't just a blanket, but a makeshift bed. Made for someone small.

Daryl turned and exited the house, looking around in case Sophia was somewhere close by. "Sophia!" He walked to the side of the house, seeing if she was hiding around and he corner. "Sophia!"

When you got no reply, he turned back to the woods. He had no choice but to head back to camp or else he'd be caught out here in the dark. He had just made it to the tree line, when a white flower caught his eye. He walked over to examine it, only to find out that it was a Cherokee Rose surrounded in Baby's Breath. He couldn't believe it. If the story was to believed, a Cherokee Rose was meant to bring hope and strength to grieving mothers. It would help Carol out a lot.

He plucked it and carefully placed it in his shirt pocket , so as not to squish it. He was about to leave again, when his eyes lingered on the Baby's Breath. Something about it was nagging in the back of his mind. He didn't know what, but it felt too important to leave behind. He grabbed up a handful of the small, white flowers, stuffing them into his jeans pocket before heading back towards camp.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry! I never met to be gone for this long, I swear. Really, this is what happens when your kids and husband get sick one week, you the next and then writers block plus stress just kicks the shit out of you. But, to make up for my absence, this chapter is going to be extra long with a few treats. 
> 
> I also wanted to say thank you. In the three weeks I've been gone, this story has had over 100 new readers and I couldn't be happier. You guys don't know how much it means to me that you actually like the content I put out. It makes any shity day I've had so much better. Thank you guys.
> 
> There are some Easter Eggs hidden in here. See if you can spot them and let me know what you think they are. Love you guys and enjoy.

Connor huffed out a breath, wiping sweat off his brow as he sat back and stretched, admiring his work. 

He had been working on the well for the past few hours, making sure that the boards were strong and secure. He wanted to go around to the other wells and check them as well, but he wanted to speak with Hershel about it first and he had disappeared with Rick a few hours prior. 

Wiping his dirt covered hands on his jeans, he stood up, gathering the tools and loose planks of wood as he made his way back to the shed. He was thankful that it had had everything he needed to close off the well and more. The shed looked to be every carpenter's dream with how stocked and organized it was.

Connor made sure to put everything in its proper place before heading back to the front of the house to keep an eye out for the others.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was getting worried about Maggie, Glenn and Daryl. Maggie seemed like she could hold her own, but she and Glenn had been gone going on four hours now. He hoped they didn't get trapped. If they still weren't back in an hour, he was going to go looking for them. 

Daryl he was less worried about. Daryl was a strong hunter and tracker, but even being gone this long was pushing it for him. That open land that they found on the map should have been only an hour away. Connor hoped that Daryl had either gone a bit farther, or that he had found something. He prayed it was Sophia. He couldn't take those looks on Carol and Daryl's faces anymore. The look of hopelessness. Like the weight of the world was on their shoulders. 

"You getting worried?"

Connor jumped and spun around, hands instantly going for the guns that were usually strapped to his thighs, before he relaxed and let out a shakey laugh, fingers running through his hair when he saw it was just Dale. "Jesus fuckin' Christ! You scared the shit ou' of me."

Dale smiled, coming to stand beside the Irishman so as not to startle him further. "Sorry."

Connor grinned. "Sure ya are." He shook his head, sighing. "A bi'. Maggie and Glenn have been gone for a while and they don' have much in ways of protection. And it shouldn' be takin' Daryl this long either. I'm worried they go' cornered."

Dale placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure they're fine. Glenn and Maggie are on horses, remember? She won't be pushing them too hard, so it'll be slow going."

Connor nodded. If Maggie was making the horses walk, it would take a while.

"And you know Daryl can take care of himself. Plus, he's got incentive to come back," Dale grinned.

Connor laughed. "Cheeky old man."

Dale shrugged in a 'what are you going to do?' kind of way. "How do you think Carol's fairing?"

Connor snorted. "With Sheriff Justice and all his talk abou' no' carin' if we find Sophia? She probably ready to claw his eyes ou'."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Dale laughed. "Never underestimate a Mamma Bear looking for her cub."

Connor smiled. He had firsthand experience; He and Murphy would sometimes disappear from their mother's side when they were younger. Watching her mow down a crowd of people to get to them was worth the beating they endured as a result.

Dale clapped his shoulder. "They'll be back soon, you'll see."

Just seconds after thevwords had left his mouth, did they hear a car approaching. They shared matching grins as Carol's Cherokee pulled up to the front of the house.

"Ask and ye shall receive," Connor recited, going around to Carol's side and hugging her tightly as she stepped out. 

Carol jumped in surprise at the sudden affection, but quickly hugged Connor back, letting out a deep and pain filled sigh.

Connor hugged even tighter as his eyes scanned the vehicle, finding no sign of Sophia. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Carol pulled back, giving him a watery smile. "It's okay. If I can't find her, I'm sure Daryl can. Is he back yet?" 

Connor shook his head. "No. But, I know he'll be back soon." He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. 

She nodded, appreciating the effort. She started fiddling with her shirt, pulling at a loose thread to keep her hands busy.

Connor noticed her fidgeting, trying to think of something to keep her mind occupied. "Wha' do you like to do?"

Carol looked up, squinting at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"Is there anythin' you enjoy doin'? Somethin' you do to make yourself feel better?"

She thought for a moment, gripping her fingers together, tightly. "Whenever I need something to do, I'd clean. Normally, I would have to anyway, because of Ed. But, if I was really stressed, I'd clean the he house from top to bottom. Would spend hours on it. But, as you can see," she gestured around at all the open land, "there's not much I can do."

Connor racked his brain for anything that needed to get done, hell, even fixed, until his eyes lit up and a grin stretched across his face. "I saw a while pile of laundry nex' to Lori earlier. Even go' some of my own. How's tha' sound?"

Carol managed a weak smile before nodding. "It'll keep me busy. Let's go grab it."

Together, they made their way towards the remains of the campfire and spotted the dirty clothes resting under a nearby tree.

"Dale has a few washboards in the RV," Carol explained, gathering the clothes in her arms. "Now, all we need is some water."

"I'll ge' the boards," Connor offered, "and I'll see wha' I can do abou' the water." He turned and headed towards the RV, spotting Dale sitting atop of it. "Hey, Dale!" he called up.

Dale poked his head off the side of the camper. "Need something, Connor?"

"Carol and I are headin' ou' to wash the clothes. She said you had some washboards we could use."

Dale nodded, turning to climb down the ladder. "Yeah, I do. Should still have some soap left, too," he said once he was on the ground.

They climbed into the RV, Dale lifting up one of the bench seats from the table and pulling out three washboards, handing them to Connor. "I'm sure I have laundry soap in here somewhere," he mumbled to himself as he dug around in the cupboards before letting out a triumphant, "A-ha!" He shook the small bottle before giving it to Connor as well. "It's not much, but it should be plenty."

"Obliged," Connor thanked the man. He turned to leave, but remembered about the water. "Do you know where we can ge' some water?"

Dale's eyebrows pulled together in thought. "Maggie told me there are about five wells on the property. The first one is for the house. The second we definitely can't use anymore."

Connor nodded with a grimace.

"I think any one of them should be okay to use," Dale continued.

"Sounds good. Thanks, Dale!" he called as he left the RV and headed back towards Carol.

"I have the items you requested, my lady," he said, bowing as he got close enough. He smiled when he heard her giggle.

"Like I could ever be royalty," Carol scoffed, smile set firmly on her face.

"You could be!" Connor insisted. He was glad he could make her laugh. She needed to do it more often. "Dale found some soap. Said we are welcome to it and told me where we could ge' some water."

"Good," Carol said, shifting the bundle in her arms. "Let's get to it, then."

He held up a finger, asking her to wait as he made his way to his backpack, resting against a tree near the house, before slipping it onto his back and quickly making his way back. He noticed her struggling to keep the clothes from falling, so he grabed part of the mound, balancing the washboards and detergent on top, as he grinned at her. "This way."

Connor led Carol out into the fields and towards the wells, cautiously looking around for Walkers - and Shane. He didn't want that negativity around Carol right now. She had too much to worry about.

They made it to the well that was closest to the property, motioning for Carol the stay back as he dropped his pile on the ground and cautiously stepped up to the lid. He strained his ears, listening for any sounds of a Walker. When he heard none, he lifted the lid and peered inside, letting out a sigh of relief when he found nothing but clear water. "It's safe," he called the Carol, searching for a bucket to pump the water into as he closed the lid.

Spotting one, he grabbed it and filled it as Carol came over and dropped her pile on the ground next to his.

Once the bucket was full, he grabbed the soap and started pouring it into the water, swishing his hand around to mix the two, creating suds.

"If you just want to leave your clothes, I'll get them done," Carol said, taking a seat in the grass as she began to sort out the clothes.

Connor looked up at that, brow furrowing in confusion. "I'm no' leavin' you here to do all this yourself, Carol."

"The men around here don't usually help with the laundry," Carol admitted, looking sheepish.

Connor scoffed, carrying the bucket over and placing it in front of Carol. "Well, one thin' you should know about me: I love doin' laundry, especially by hand. Used to do it everyday growin' up. And, when I work a lot, I ge' real chatty. So, prepare yourself for a few hours of annoyance with special guest star: Me!"

Carol began to laugh as Connor did his Game Show Host voice, gesturing like he was showing off a prize. "I don't think you could ever annoy me."

"Obliged you'd say tha'," Connor smiled, feeling pride well up in him as he listened to Carol's laughter. "I'm goin' to try to find more buckets."

At her nod, Connor jogged around to the other wells, snatching up their buckets quickly, until he had at least three of them, before heading back to Carol.

Just as he set the buckets down and began to fill them, he saw Andrea walking up. He lifted his hand in a wave before adding soap to one bucket and leaving the last two filled with clean water, moving them over to Carol. "Wha' brings you to our neck of the woods?" he asked, turning towards Andrea.

She shrugged, hands in our pockets. "Feel kind of useless with nothing to do. Saw you guys heading this way and thought I could help. You mind?"

Connor shot a quick glance at Carol. "The more, the merrier."

Carol smiled. "I'd love the extra company."

Andrea grinned and sat next to Carol, pulling a shirt towards her.

Connor push another bucket of soapy water towards her, along with a washboard. "You ladies wash, I rinse?"

They both nodded and got to work, scrubbing the clothes and handing them off to Connor quickly.

"So, Connor," Andrea spoke up as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot on a pair of pants, "you seem like a storyteller, got any good ones?"

Connnor laughed, thinking of the perfect story. "Okay," he said, wringing water out of a shirt, "it was jus' hours after our firs' job. We were drinkin' at a friend, Rocco's, place. It was about two in the mornin' and we were drunker than shit." He winced, still expecting a head slap from his mother. "Excuse my language."

Carol laughed. "I don't think a bit of cursing is going to hurt anyone, Connor. Go ahead."

Andrea nodded, encouraging him to continue.

Connor grinned. He loved these women. "Like I said: we were drunker than shit. Rocco more so, since he was also smokin' some Mary Jane." He laughed, remembering Rocco blowing some of the smoke in the cat's face. "It was jus' gettin' to the poin' where we were all ready to crash, and Rocco goes on this ran' abou' how he was gettin' screwed in his job. He was a package boy for the Italian mob. Been doin' it since high school," he elaborated.

"Everyone else tha' worked for Papa Joe was lavished in riches. No' Rocco. He lived in a dingy one bedroom apartmen' and was barely gettin' enough money to pay rent. So, me and Murph were windin' him up a bi', sayin' we could take ou' some of the higher-ups, and he would climb the corporate ladder. Tha' go' him goin' even more. His exac' words were, _they can suck my pathetic, little dick and I'll dip my nuts in marinara sauce, jus' so those fat bastards can ge' a taste of home while they're at it."_

Andrea doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach. "Oh, my God!" she wheezed. "You have some interesting friends."

"Oh, darlin', I'm no' even finished ye'," Connor grinned. "Earlier, Rocco was playin' with one of our guns and it had been lef' on the table. Well, he also had a cat in the apartmen' and he was jus' sittin' there, chillin' ou' on the table. After Rocco gets done with his bitchin', he slams his fists on the table, the gun goes off and the cat literally explodes! There's blood all over the fuckin' wall. We all jump up and star' freakin' the fuck ou'. Then, Murphy goes, _I can't believe that jus' fuckin' happened._ And Rocco, in his infinite wisdom, asks, _is it dead?"_

Carol slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter.

Andrea threw her head back as she laughed, tears rolling down her face. "Why am I laughing? That was horrible!"

"It is, bu' you laughed at it!" Connor laughed, slapping his leg. "The bes' par' is, after it happened, Rocco flew ou' of his chair so fas', he slammed face-firs' into the wall, screaming, _I'm hit! I'm hit!"_

That just set them off even more.

Andrea wiped her tears away as she took a deep breath, small bursts of laughter still escaping her.

Carol held onto her side. She had laughed so hard she was beginning to get a cramp. "I will admit, it was funny."

"I've go' loads more," Connor grinned.

"What are you guys laughing about over here?"

They all turned around to see Maggie approaching, smile lighting up her face.

"Hey, cowgirl. Was gettin' worried abou' you. You guys okay?" Connor asked, getting up and giving her a brief hug.

"Yeah, we're fine," Maggie said, hugging back. "Glenn sucks on that horse, though. Took longer than I thought it would."

Connor knew she was lying, he could see the faint glow in her cheeks when she said Glenn's name. There was more going on, but he wasn't going to touch on it now. He'd let them have their fun. Hopefully, it blossomed into something more.

"So, what are you guys up to?"

"Jus' doin' some laundry. Hope you don' mind, we took some of the water from the well." Connor tilted his head, indicating the water pump next to him.

She waved him off. "Take as much as you need, we have plenty. Mind if I join you?"

Carol and Andrea nodded.

"Have a sea', little lady," Connor said, chuckling when Maggie slapped his arm before sitting next to Carol. He sat back down and handed her some wet clothes. "You can help me rinse."

Maggie smiled and nodded, dunking her own clothes in the clean water. "So, what were you guys laughing about?"

"Connor was telling us a story from a few years ago," Andrea explained.

"He's a good storyteller," Carol added.

"Really?" Maggie asked, turning towards Connor. "Got any more?"

Connor nodded. "Plenty. Me and Murph did a lo' of stupid shit growin' up, there's lots to tell. You wan' one from my childhood? When we go' to the States? Wha?"

"Actually, I'd like to hear about how you and Daryl got together," Maggie said, smile uncertain.

Connor went still at her request, fighting down the sadness that rose up. "Um... I don' know abou' tha'."

"So, you guys actually were together?" Carol asked, eyes wide and surprise.

Connor nodded. "Yeah. A long time ago."

"I want to hear it," Andrea said, bright smile on her face.

Carol and Maggie nodded their agreement.

Connor sighed, steeling himself for the memories he was about to relive. It's not that it was a bad time, it was that he loved Daryl and missed him so much, thinking about their first time together, now, it hurt. That memory used to bring him such joy. He never thought he'd ever have a chance with Daryl, and now, it seems so unlikely again. "Okay. Really, it was just a regular day..."

_Connor, Murphy and Daryl were lounging around in the brother's apartment, drinking, smoking and playing cards. Just a normal Saturday for the three._

_Ever since Daryl had become friends with the brothers, they developed a routine: Everyday, they would walk to and from work together, since they lived in the same building. Most nights, they would hang out at McGinty's. Daryl, thankfully, got on pretty well with Doc and the boys. Other nights were spent at each other's places, mainly at whoever's had more beer._

_Saturdays were always spent the same; some light drinking with some smack talk and cards before they headed out to McGinty's to get drunker than shit._

_Then Sundays. The brothers would go to church, while Daryl stayed in bed and slept off his massive hangover, before heading back to work and starting the week all over again. The three men had become almost inseparable._

_This particular Saturday, found the boys playing poker, using their cigarettes as currency, with Murphy steadily becoming more and more pissed off as Daryl kept winning._

_"Fuckin' bullshit! Again, hillbilly?" Murphy exclaimed as Daryl pulled the pile of cigarettes towards himself, smug grin etched on his face._

_"Getting a little sore there, Paddy?" Daryl smirked, pulling a cigarette from the pile and lighting it, blowing the smoke and Murphy's face as the younger MacManus growled._

_Connor would be pissed too at Daryl's winning streak, if you wasn't busy laughing his ass off at Murphy's anger._

_One of Daryl's favorite things to do was to piss Murphy off. It always ended with Murphy trying to beat the shit out of Daryl and getting knocked flat on his ass for his efforts. And it never failed to bring Connor hours of entertainment._

_"Don' be such a sore loser, Murph," Connor laughed, taking a drink of his beer._

_"He's won almos' every single hand!" Murphy exclaimed. "I'm almos' ou' of smokes!"_

_"Thought you Irishmen were supposed to be the lucky ones," Daryl grinned, leaning back and placing his hands behind his head._

_"Alrigh', you fucker," Murphy said, thrown his cards on the pile. "Las' hand. All or nothin'."_

_Connor whistled. "You sure, Murph? You only have, wha', three lef'? No' much of a payou' there," he laughed._

_Murphy glared at his twin. "If I win, I'll spli' the po' with you."_

_Connor stop laughing and grinned mischiefly. "Now we're talkin'."_

_Murphy turn to Daryl. "How 'bout it, Dixon? All or nothin'?" he challenged._

_Daryl laughed. Rraching for the cards, he begin to shuffle. "You're on, MacManus." He threw two cards at Murphy and two at Connor before dealing his own hand, giving the brothers a chance to look at their cards._

_He saw Murphy's lips give a slight twitch upwards before he went stone-faced, making Daryl hold back a smirk._

_Murphy had the worst poker face._

_Connor, on the other hand, didn't even have a tell. Daryl never knew if it was a good or bad hand until Connor played it. Part of the reason why he loved playing with the blonde so much: it was a challenge._

_Daryl placed three cards on the table: an Ace and two 4's. He spread them out before taking a glance at his own cards, internally beaming. "All in, Paddy?" he asked, goading Murphy._

_Murphy threw his last remaining cigarettes on the table, scowling. "All in, hillbilly."_

_They both looked at Connor, waiting for him to throw his smokes on the table, too._

_Connor had accumulated a decent-sized pile with the few wins he had stolen from Daryl, and he was reluctant to give it up._

_"Come on, Conn," Murphy pushed._

_Connor sighed as he pushed his pile forward. "If I lose, Murphy, I'm kickin' your ass."_

_"I'm goin' to win, Connor. I already said I'll spli' it with you," Murphy reminded him._

_"Yeah, sure you'll win," Connor mumbled, tapping his cards against the table._

_Daryl shook his head in amusement before laying down the last two cards; a 7 and a 9._

_Connor cursed, throwing his cards on the table. "I'm ou'. You better win, Murphy."_

_Murphy nodded, locked in a stare-down with Daryl, eyes challenging._

_"Ladies first," Daryl quipped._

_Murphy didn't rise to the bait, just smiled triumphantly as he laid his cards down. "Aces full."_

_Daryl huffed out a breath, hanging his head. "I gotta admit, Murphy; that's a great hand."_

_"You be' your ass, it is," Murphy laughed, reaching for the pile._

_"But."_

_He froze before his hands could reach to the gold mine, looking at Daryl with wide eyes._

_Daryl laid his cards out, smirking at the look of disbelief on the younger Irishman's face. "Four 4's is just a little bit better."_

_"No!" Murphy exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table._

_Connor was pissed he had lost all of his smokes, but seeing Murphy so pissed off was worth it. His brother was so competitive and a very sore loser, so watching him blow up after losing was always a treat._

_"Why can I never bea' you?" Murphy groaned, running angry fingers through his hair._

_Daryl laughed, folding his arms across his chest. "If I told you that, I'd never win again."_

_"Fucker." Murphy stood up abruptly, angrily shrugging on his peacoat as he stormed towards the door._

_"Where the fuck are you goin'?" Connor asked his steaming brother._

_"To ge' some more smokes, since the hick here stole all of ours," Murphy growled._

_"Fine. I'll be down at Daryl's, drinkin' all his beer since we're out," Connor said, tossing back the last of said beer before throwing the can somewhere behind him._

_"Why is it always my beer?" Daryl asked, incredulously._

_Connor shrugged. "Why's it always my smokes?"_

_"Point," Daryl nodded._

_"Save some for me, fuckers," Murphy called, slamming the door closed behind him._

_Connor and Daryl listen to Murphy's thundering footsteps fade before bursting out laughing._

_"I think that was the most I've ever gotten to him," Daryl snorted._

_"Definitely top ten," Connor added._

_"Come on," Daryl nodded towards the door, "let's go drink all my beer."_

_Connor laughed, standing up and stretching. "Don' mind if I do." He begin walking to the door, but stopped when he realized Daryl wasn't following him. He turned around, eyes widening in surprise as he saw Daryl take only half of the pile of cigarettes and stuff them in his sweatshirt pocket. "Wha' are you doin'?"_

_"Half this pile is mine. I earned it," Daryl explained, walking towards him. "You and Murphy can split the other half." He opened the door and trecked down the stairs to his own apartment._

_Connor was frozen surprise. Daryl had won those cigarettes fair and square, but he was still leaving half of them for the brother. It may not seem like it, but Daryl had a generous heart and it still amazed him the little things he would do to let the people around him know that he cared. It was part of the reason Connor had fallen in love with the hunter in the first place._

_"Hey, Clover! Better get your ass down here before I keep all this ice cold beer to myself!"_

_Connor shook himself out of his thoughts and hurried out of the apartment, quickly heading down the stairs, berating himself on the way._ Stop thinkin' like tha'. Daryl is as straigh' as they come. He'll never see you like tha'. Jus' le' it go _._

_Once he reached Daryl's apartment, he closed the door behind him, making sure to lock the deadbolt. It was a habit that Daryl had instilled in both Connor and Murphy over the last year: if you were in Daryl's place, the door stayed locked._

_Daryl used it as a Fail-Safe in case Merle ever came after him. Merle kicking the door down would give Daryl enough time to get down the fire escape and run._

_Connor was glad that Merle was in jail. He was pretty sure that if he ever met the man, he would be going to jail himself for murder. The things that Daryl had told him and Murphy that Merle and his 'father' used to do to him still made his skin crawl and rage course through his veins._

_"Hey."_

_Connor looked up as a can came at him, hand instantly lifting to grab it. He opened it, letting it foam up for a bit before taking a huge gulp, letting the bitter flavor roll over his taste buds._

_"You alright, Connor?" Daryl asked, sitting on his threadbare couch, leaning back heavily._

_"Yeah, I'm fine," he reassured the hunter, sitting in the corner of the couch and pulling his legs up to rest his feet on Daryl's legs. He smiled when Daryl laid his free hand on his leg and started rubbing._

_When he first started doing this, he was afraid Daryl would freak out and make him leave. He was pleasantly surprised when Daryl seemed accepted it as Connor's normal behavior and let it continue._

_"You're kinda on vacation right now, huh?"_

_Connors head snapped up. "Wha'?"_

_"You keep zoning out on me. Am I that boring?" Daryl smirked, hand running along Connor's leg, lightly._

_Connor shook his head, trying not to focus too hard on the feeling of Daryl's hand on him. He couldn't afford to get too distracted by Daryl or else he would reveal his true thoughts and scare him off. He didn't want to lose the hunter completely. "Borin'? Seriously, it's hard to stay awake around you, you're so dull," he laughed._

_"You prick!"_

_Connor had just enough time to place drink on the table before Daryl tackled him off the couch and to the ground, growling. Connor laughed as his back made contact with the floor, rolling them over so he was on top. "Dull Dixon. That's your new name," he snorted._

_Daryl smirked as he maneuvered a leg out from underneath the blonde, slamming his knee into Connor's side._

_Connor let out an 'oof', and swung an arm out, fist connecting with Daryl's jaw._

_Daryl just laughed as he pinned Connor beneath him once more. They never got angry with each other when they fought like this, it was just fun to see you who was better. Although, they never did keep track of who won and who lost._

_Daryl had  Connor's wrists pinned to the floor on either side of his head and his full body weight on him as he watched Connor struggle half-heartedly, playful smirk beaming up at him._

_Daryl found himself getting lost in the vast ocean of Connor's blue eyes. Ever since they had met, Daryl had felt a pull towards Connor, a pull that intensified whenever he looked into those bright sapphires. He usually tryed to avoid eye contact with the blonde, so he didn't get pulled too far in. But, with Connor pinned underneath him like this, he couldn't help but stare._

_It felt right, being this close to Connor, sharing the same air. He had fantasized about this for the last few months. At first, he tried to fight the growing affections for his Irish friend, but when they just kept growing, he decided to stop fighting and accept it. He never wanted Connor to know. He didn't want him and Murphy to leave him too. They were the best friends he'd ever had. He couldn't lose them. Not because of this._

_Daryl saw the smile on Connor's face fade slowly as he braced himself for the backlash, for the disgust he never wanted to see in those perfect eyes. But, all he saw was Connor's eyes going soft and... was that...hope he saw in the blonde's eyes? It couldn't be. Did Connor feel the same way?_

_He found himself leaning down, lips only centimeters apart from Connor's._

Don't!

_He saw Connor's eyes flutter shut and his lips part._

Don't kiss him! You'll lose him forever!

_His own eyes closed as he leaned down a fraction more._

No, don't... Oh, fuck.

_His lips pressed tentatively against his friend's, sparks and shivers running down his spine as he felt those plump lips, that he had always wanted to kiss, press lightly against his own._

_He pulled away slowly, fearing that he had just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him._

_He watched Connor's eyes blink open slowly, fear, hope and happiness shining back at him._

_"Daryl," Connor whispered._

_Daryl gently released Connor's wrists, slidding their fingers together with one hand while the other cuped the back of his head, lifting him slightly to slot their lips back together._

_Connor made a pleased moan in the back of his throat, hand coming up to slip into Daryl's darker hair, holding them together._

_The kiss quickly became heated as Daryl's tongue probed  the blonde's lower lip, slipping inside Connor's mouth when he was granted access. He moaned at the taste that hit his pallet as his tongue ran along Connor's, tasting the beer and cigarettes he had had throughout the day. It brushed the roof of his mouth and slid along his teeth, making Connor let out a shuddering breath of desire, clutching at Daryl's hair tightly._

_He couldn't believe he was kissing Daryl. He had wanted this for so long, it was hard to think of anything else when the hunter was near. He really hoped that this wasn't a one-time thing, but if it was, he was going to take as much as he could get. He needed Daryl, more than he ever needed anything before._

_Connor whined when Daryl pulled away from the kiss, but gasped in surprise as those lips reappeared on his neck. Lips, tongue and teeth marking up his pale neck so easily._

_Daryl wanting to leave as many marks as he could on his Irish treasure. He wanted everyone to know that Connor was his and only his._

_He moved across the expanse of skin, leaving dark marks in his wake, until he got to Connor's neck tattoo. He didn't want to mark up the Virgin Mary in case it angered him, but the response he got when he licked the area was enough to throw those thoughts from his mind and he sunk his teeth firmly into the skin._

_He was rewarded by Connor arching his back and letting out the most pleasure field cry Daryl had ever heard. He felt Connor's fingers slip from his as both his hands gripped his dark brown locks tightly, pulling him up and away from his neck for an enthusiastic, tongue filled kiss._

_As his breath was being sucked out of him, Daryl ran a hand underneath Connor's brown sweater, feeling the tight muscles in his midsection contract as a shudder ran through him. He ran his hand up higher on Connor's chest, fingers lightly brushing a nipple as Connor threw his head back and moaned low in his throat._

_Daryl needed to feel more. Needed to see more. He slipped his hands under Connor's sweater and slowly pulled it up and over his head, revealing the toned chest and arms he had been waiting so long to get his hands on. And he did just that._

_He ran his hands all along Connor's arms, chest and stomach, feeling the muscles shudder and twitch at the attention. His lips followed the same path as his hands, kissing and licking along the perfect canvas until his lips wrapped around an erect nipple and he sucked._

_"Fuck!" Connor cried out at the feeling of Daryl's hands and mouth on him. He felt like his brain was short-circuiting with all the sparks running along his body. Everywhere that Daryl touched, seemed to get a jolt of electricity and left him aching for more._

_He gripped Daryl's hoodie in his fists, tugging at the material impatiently. He needed to see Daryl. All of him._

_Getting the message, Daryl sat up and rid himself of his shirt revealing, the taned, toned, scarred flesh of his upper body._

_His eyes wouldn't meet Connor's. He hated his scars. Hated how they made him look, how they made him angry enough to lash out._

_Connor, sensing the mood shift in his Southern friend, sat up, straddling Daryl's hips, bringing those stormy grey eyes to meet his. He brought his hands up and around Daryl's back, gently tracing the scars as he rested their foreheads together._

_This was not the first time Connor had seen Daryl's scars; They had been rough housing one day and Daryl's back had slammed into the table, causing a pained cry to leave his lips._

_Connor, worried about his friend, instantly lifted his shirt to see if there was any damage, only to get the shock of his life when he saw the marred skin. A wave of sadness washed over him before blinding fury took its place and he demanded to know who had hurt him._

_He wasn't prepared for the backlash, which he received in the form of a right hook to his cheekbone. Which, in turn, caused Murphy to deliver one right back to Daryl._

_Hours of fighting and talking finally led to the brothers telling Daryl that they didn't think any less of him for what he had gone through. They were just glad that he was away from all of that and with them now._

_"Your scars make you who you are," Connor repeated his words from that day, running a finger along one scar that split his demon tattoo. "You're stronger now than you ever were."_

_Daryl squeezed his eyes shut before bringing their lips together again. Clutching the Irishman close, he moaned as their bare flesh finally made contact while digging his fingers into Connor's hips, leaving finger-shaped bruises and their wake._

_He trailed his lips down Connor's neck and kept moving, kissing every available patch of skin he could reach. He gently laid Connor back on the ground as his lips continue their downward trek, until they reach the waistband of Connor's jeans. His tongue dipped into the blonde's navel as he unbuttoned the hip huggers, making Connor arch and whimper against his lips._

Too fast! You're going too fast! Slow down!

_"I can't," Daryl mouthed into the skin of Connor's hips."I need more." He nipped and kissed every inch of skin that was exposed as he slowly pulled the pants down Connor's pale legs. He groaned when he realized Connor wasn't wearing any underwear, making his mouth water as his already swollen erection bounced against his stomach as it was released from the confines of his pants._

_He pulled the pants off the rest of the way, pulling off Connor's boots and socks along with them, leaving the Irishman completely naked._

_Daryl looked at his lover, drinking in the sight that greeted him; Connor's face was flushed, lips red and swollen from all the kissing, skin covered in goosebumps and erection red and already leaking a pool of pre-cum into his bellybutton._

_Without thinking, Daryl dove down and engulfed Connor's cock almost to the hilt, making Connor cry out and buck his hips up into Daryl's mouth. Daryl pinned down his hips and growled when he fell Connor's fingers in his hair, tugging lightly._

_Daryl began bobbing his head, tongue running along the underside and around the head as he pulled up and sucking as his lips took in the engorged flush again._

_Connor threw his head back, fingers tightening in Daryl's hair as his mouth assaulted him. He never expected Daryl to do this to him. He had thought about sucking Daryl off plenty of times, but Daryl doing it to him? Well, he was definitely going to enjoy it while he could._

_He let out a groan of protest when Daryl pulled off, lifting his head to look at the hunter only to find him sucking on his fingers, Connor instantly whimpered at the thought of those fingers inside of him and tilted his hips up in anticipation._

_Daryl chuckled, trailing kisses along his inner thighs as his spit slick fingers found Connor's hole, swirling around the pucker. "Patients, beautiful. Soon." He slowly pushed a single digit inside of Connor's tight body, stopping when it was sheathed up to the last knuckle, watching the blonde's face for any signs of discomfort. But, all he found was pleasure in those blue depths. Pleasure and trust._

_He slowly began to move his finger in and out, stretching Connor, rubbing along his walls. He watched and listened as Connor let out the most beautiful sounds, body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure filled his senses. The sight made his dick twitch. He couldn't wait to be buried inside of Connor's beautiful body, claiming him as his own. But, he had to have patience. He refused to hurt Connor, so he would take as long as it took to make sure he was prepared enough._

_When he felt Connor's hole was loose enough, he slipped in another finger beside the first, scissoring them to help open him up. He pushed his fingers in a little deeper, feeling a bump, he decided to prod at it, hoping that he found that place inside of him that would make his nerves light up._

_"Daryl!" Connor screamed as stars erupted behind his eyelids. He dug his fingers into the bedspread, trying to ground himself so as not to lose himself in the sensations flowing through his body. He didn't want it to end just yet._

_Daryl groaned when he heard his name being ripped from Connor's throat like that. He'd never heard anything sexier in his life. He pumped his fingers in and out of that beautiful body, making sure to brush his fingers against that spot every time, making Connor cry out and arch his body._

_Daryl knew he was close, but he wanted Connor to come when he was inside of him, feeling his hole clench around him as he came._

_He pushed the images aside as he added a third finger, twisting them inside of Connor, making sure he was loose enough._

_As he deemed Connor ready, he pulled his fingers out, smirking at the whine that left his mouth. He sat back and undid his own pants before shucking them, leaving him completely naked as well. He leaned down and stole Connor's lips in a slow, biting kiss. Teeth nipping at his plump bottom lip. "Turn over," he whispered, huskily._

_Connor did as he was told, laying flat on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms as Daryl laid his full body along the length of his back. He kissed and nipped at the back of his neck and shoulders, making his way up to Connor's ear, licking the lobe._

_"Tell me to stop," Daryl groaned. "Tell me you want me to stop," he pleaded. He was giving Connor an out. He wanted forever with his beautiful Irishman, not one night. But, if that's all Connor wanted, he needed to find the willpower to pull away._

_He was surprised, but happy, when Connor shook his head. "No," hewhispered. "Please, don't stop._

_That was all Daryl needed. He gripped his cock and brought the head to Connor's entrance. "Mine," he growled as he slowly pushed in, groaning at the feeling of the tight heat surrounding him until he was fully sheathed._

_He rested his head against Connor's shoulder blade, trying to calm his breathing as his lover made little cries of pleasure at being filled. He wanted to move, to pound into that willing body, claim it, but he stayed still. He wanted to make love to the gorgeous man beneath him, not hurt him with a rough fuck their first time. He could be rough later. Now was not the time._

_"Move," Connor pleaded, rough voice ripping Daryl out of his thoughts. "Please, Daryl. Move."_

_How could he refuse such a request? He slipped an arm under Connor's head, tipping it to the side so he could kiss those lips, running his other hand down the length of his body. He pulled out then, gently, pushed back in._

_Connor mewled, separating their mouth as he panted harshly at the feeling of Daryl moving inside of him. Relishing in the slow slide of their bodies joining as one, feeling tears well up in his eyes at the love he felt radiating off the man on top of him._

_He pushed them back as he realized that it wasn't love he was feeling. He knew Daryl could never love him. This was just a one-off, but, God knew, he didn't want it to be. He wanted Daryl forever. Needed him. He would take this, take anything Daryl would give him, just as long as he could have this for a few moments._

_Daryl pressed his lip along Connor's back, thrusting slowly in and out of him. He was making love to the blonde. He knew it. It was what Connor deserved, to be loved. He had the biggest heart and went out of his way to help people with his generosity. He never expected Connor to like him, much less love him, but here they were. And he wouldn't have it any other way._

_The feel of Connor's body and the whimpers and cries that left his mouth were quickly bringing him to the edge. He pulled out of Connor and maneuvered him onto his back, silencing his protest with a kiss, nudging their noses together. "I need to see you," he whispered before pushing back into that blessedly, tight body._

_Connor gasped, wrapping his arms and legs around Daryl as his thrusts picked up speed, changing angles to find that glorious spot, and when he found it, Connor screamed, throwing his head back, chanting Daryl's name like a prayer._

_Daryl almost exploded when he felt Connor clench around him after founding his prostate. Sensing that the blonde was close, he made sure to hit that spot with every thrust, wrapping his hand around Connor's leaking erection and pumping in time with his movements._

_"Non si fermano! Si prega di Daryl, non si fermano!" Connor cried. He was so lost in the pleasure the he didn't even realise he wasn't speaking English anymore._

_Daryl growled as he heard the Italian spilling from Connor's mouth. He recognized it from the few times he had heard the brothers speak it. It never failed to turn him on when he heard Connor show off his intellect by speaking other languages. "More," he growled._

_"Dar leat chomh maith taobh istigh orm," Connor gasped, pulling Daryl down for a kiss. "Wollte dich so lange," he murmured against his lips._

_Daryl moaned deep in his chest and sped up his hand on Connor's cock, feeling himself teetering on the edge. He was determined to make Connor come before him. He wanted to watch him fall apart, knowing that it was all because of him. "Cum, Connor," Daryl begged, planting kisses along his chest. "Cum for me."_

_"Je t'aime!" Connor cried out as his orgasm slammed into him. Throwing his head back, he moaned and whimpered as stream after stream of the white, pearlescent liquid shot out of his cock, streaking his own chest and covering Daryl's hand._

_Daryl watched with fascination as Connor screwed his eyes shut, arms tightening around his neck as he clenched down tightly around Daryl still inside of him. He only had a moment to etch that beautiful face into his memory before his vision wighted out and he shot his own seed deep inside of Connor, pressing them together firmly._

_Thankfully, he was aware enough to not collapse directly on top of Connor, instead, angling his body to lay diagonally against as lover's._

_Connor turned his head, staring into Daryl's eyes with his own heavily lidded ones, smiling gently._

_Daryl returned his smile, bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Did I hurt you?" he asked._

_Connor shook his head. "No. You are perfec'. It was amazin'."_

_Daryl grinned. "You were amazing." He kissed him again, thumb stroking his cheek. He didn't want to, but he knew he needed to pull away from Connor in order to clean them both. So, he pulled out of Connor's lax body slowly, smiling at the disappointed whine that left the Irishman's mouth. He stood up and offered Connor a hand, pulling him up as well, then wrapping him in a tight embrace._

_They hugged for what felt like hours, just content to hold the other until the sticky mess between them became too irritating. They reluctantly pulled away from each other, Daryl grabbing his discarded shirt and wiping them both down with it. He tossed it into a corner and pulled Connor towards the bed tucked up against the far wall._

_"What do you say to a nap before we head out tonight?" Daryl suggested, noticing the exhaustion on Connor's face._

_Connor nodded. "Sounds good. You don' mind me stayin'?" he asked, nervously._

_Daryl kissed his plant lips, slowly swiping his tongue inside the blonde's mouth for a moment before pulling away. "I wouldn't want you anywhere else," he reassured him._

_Connor smiled softly and let himself be pulled down onto the mattress, tucking himself against Daryl's side, head resting over his heart, arm around his waist._

_Daryl pulled the blanket over them, tangling their legs together. He running his fingers through Connor's hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep."_

_Connor nodded, closing his eyes as he listened to Daryl's steady heart beat._

_Not too long after, Connor felt Daryl's breathing even out and knew he was asleep. He bit his lip as he tried to will away the tears he could feel brimming in his eyes. He was so ashamed of himself. He had just possibly ruined their friendship, because he was weak. If he had more self-control, this never would have happened._

_Hee took a deep, calming breath leaned up to place a kiss on Daryl's cheek. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, getting up slowly so as not to disturb the sleeping hunter. He quickly slipped his clothes on he walked over to the door, quietly unlocking it and opened it._

_He took one last lingering look at Daryl before stepping out into the hallway, softly closing the door behind him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian  
> Non si fermano - Don't stop.  
> Si prega di Daryl, non si fermano - Please Daryl, don't stop.
> 
> Irish  
> Dar leat chomh maith taobh istigh orm - You feel so good inside me.
> 
> German  
> Wollte dich so lange - Wanted you for so long.
> 
> French  
> Je t'aime - I love you.
> 
> Any problems with the translations, please let me know. I will fix them as soon as possible.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one guessed the Easter eggs? Well, Sheriff Justice was from Smokey and the Bandit and the poker game that Connor, Murphy and Daryl were playing, was from an episode of Supernatural, called The Curious Case of Dean Winchester. Sorry if they kind of sucked, but I thought they were funny to add in. Anyway, here's another chapter. I love getting feedback, so let me know what you guys think. Love you all.

"Wait," Andrea said, holding up her hand, "so, you just left him?"

Connor look down at the shirt in his hands, turning away from the disbelieving stares he could feel boring into him. "No' my brightes' momen'," he mumbled.

"I'll say," Andrea muttered.

Connor looked up and glared at her. "Hey, up until tha' time, I always though' Daryl was straigh'. He never gave me any reason to fuckin' think differently. I always though' tha' if I told him how I fel', he'd kill me. So, fuckin' excuse me if I go' a little bi' scared." He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. What he did all those years ago, still, to this day, made him feel guilty. He had been so stupid.

Daryl had always tried to make him forget about it. He never blamed Connor. And that just made him feel even worse.

"I'm sorry."

Connor shook his head, smiling faintly. "It's okay. I know I fucked up, but Daryl forgive me right away. He knew I was jus' bein' an idiot."

"You always forgive those that you love," Carol said, smiling.

"Aye. Tha' you do."

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the company and listening to the sounds of the forest.

"Okay, I have to ask," Maggie said, breaking the silence, "what's he like in bed?"

Connor threw his head back as he let out a full bellied laugh. He clutched his stomach as he fell over, rolling in the grass.

Andrea used her bucket the hold herself up as she sat, hunched over, roaring with laughter.

Carol was giggling into her hand, face red from exertion to remain quiet.

Maggie just sat there, looking smug with herself.

"To tell the truth," Connor gasped, once he regained the ability to breathe, "you're no' the firs' person to ask tha'."

"I bet I'm not," Maggie remarked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, expectantly. "So, you going to tell us, or what?"

Connor sat up, dusting his hands off, loving smile stretch firmly across his face. "Bein' with Daryl, was one of the greates' experiences of my life. Some people though' it was jus' abou' the sex, which was fantastic." He leaned in closer to the three ladies. "Have you ever been with a man, who will kiss you tenderly, worship your body and make you feel like all the love in the world is flowin' through your veins one minute, while the nex' he's holdin' you up agains' the wall, poundin' into you so hard tha' you forge' everythin' but his name?"

All three of them stared at him and amusement, a touch of jealousy in their eyes, as they watched him get lost in his memories.

Connor met their eyes after a moment. "Wha'?"

The three women lifted an eyebrow, instantaneously.

Connor recoiled. "That's jus' creepy. Can all women do tha'?"

"It's universal," Carol grinned.

He shivered. "Horrifying'. Anyway, I'm off track. It wasn' abou' the sex, it was jus' bein' together, bein' a family. It's wha' Murphy and me had always wanted and it was wha' Daryl needed. Also, how many people can say tha'? Tha' their significan' other go' along with their family? Daryl and Murphy were like real brothers, I'm tellin' you.

"When you're a twin, datin' is one of the hardes' things you will ever do. I could never be with someone tha' Murphy didn' like, same wen' for him. Bein' a twin is all abou' connection, and if the person you're with didn' connec' with your other half, it would never work ou'. That's why I was so blessed to have them ge' along so well, my two favorite people in the world."

"What about your mom? Did she know?" Maggie asked.

Connor nodded with a fond smile. "Aye, she did. I was terrified to tell me mother I was sleepin' with a man. We're a very Catholic family and I was convinced tha' she would tell me I wasn' her son anymore, but she surprised me. She made me give the phone to Daryl after I told her. The look on his face was priceless. He though' she was goin' to star' screamin' at him. She said, ' _do you love my boy? You goin' to trea' him righ' and make sure he doesn' ge' his, or Murphy's dumbass' killed?_ ' His only reply was, ' _yes ma'am'._  And she said, ' _then welcome to the family.'_

"She absolutely loved, Daryl. Ma would call at leas' once a week and insis' on talkin' to him. She loved him like one of her own. She sen' him birthday cards, Christmas cards. Sen' him presents. It was one of the greates' feelings in the world to know tha' my family loved Daryl as much as I did." He felt himself start to tear up as he thought about his mother. Their Village was secluded, maybe she was alright. He shook his head. It wouldn't do him any favors to dwell on it now.

"You know, they say tha' when you're a twin, the other half of your soul, is your twin. And I believed tha', I honestly believed it. Still do. But, I know, for a fac', tha' Daryl was my soulmate. I know I loved him the momen' I set eyes on him, and if he didn' love me, it was okay. As long as I had him in my life, I would have been fine. No' havin' him with me the las' few years, it's been hell. Everyday, I prayed for him to be all righ', to come home. It go' to the poin' tha' I was jus' prayin' tha' he was alive. Well, my prayers were answered. I jus' didn' expec' this: tha' he would lose all memory of me, of his family."

"He really was different then, wasn't he?" Andrea asked, sadness in her voice. "He was sweet."

Connor choked out a laugh, pushing back his tears. "Oh, he was still an asshole, even then. But, yes, he was swee'. Believe it or no', but he loved cuddlin'."

Andrea snorted, causing everyone to burst into small fits of laughter.

"It's true! He told me he only did it, because it made Murphy throw a bitch fit, bu' I could tell he loved it."

"How did all this even happen, anyway?" Carol questioned, looking perplexed. "All the stories you've told us, your interactions together, what happened? What tore you two apart?"

Connor clenched teeth, narrowing his eyes as he glared at the muddy grass beneath him. "... Merle," he bit out.

"Merle Dixon," Andrea growled, running her fingers through her hair, tugging at it gently.

"Merle?" Maggie asked, recognization lighting up her eyes. "Isn't that who the medicine was for? I remember Glenn mentioning in last night."

"Merle Dixon, is the most racist, sexist, homophobic, jackass to ever exist. And he also happens to be Daryl's older brother," Andrea explained, face pinched in anger.

Carol nodded in agreement. "After being with Ed, I didn't think there could ever be anyone worse than him. But, sometimes, Merle could give him a run for his money."

"When we first met Rick, Merle was going crazy; there was a crowd of Walkers in front of the store we were in and Merle thought it would be a good idea to shoot at them from the rooftop. He barely hit any of them and the noise just brought more to us." Andrea sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Rick managed to cuff him to a pole, but we had to leave him there when we left. T-Dog dropped the key in a drain when he was trying to get Merle out of the cuffs."

Connor stared at her in disbelief.

"What?" Andrea defended. "We were surrounded. It was either leave right then, or die. We chose to leave."

"I be' Daryl wasn' too thrilled abou' tha'," Connor stated, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took one hit off of it and extinguished the cherry, putting it back in the pack. He only had two left and he wanted to save them as long as he could.

"Understatement," Andrea muttered. "But, Rick went back for him. Along with Daryl, T-Dog and Glenn." She leaned in a little closer to the other three, as if to tell them a secret. "Glenn told me that when they got to the roof, all they found was Merle's hand. He had cut it off so he could escape."

Connor looked pensive as he thought. "He's no' dead."

"How do you know?" Maggie asked.

"Merle may be an idiot, bu' he's no' stupid. He can live off the land and track almos' as well as Daryl can. No doubt he found some way to stop himself from bleedin' to death." He shook his head. "No, Merle Dixon's still alive."

"Do you think he'd come back?" Carol asked, worryingly.

"If he was goin' to come back, he would have already."

"Wouldn't he want to be with his brother?" Maggie asked.

He shook his head. "Merle never cared abou' were Daryl was. Never even cared abou' Daryl at all. The only reason he took Daryl away from Boston, was because he was with me. And he'd be damned if he had a fag for a brother."

"How did that even happen?" Carol asked.

Connor sighed. "We were celebratin' our two year mark. A few months before, Daryl go' a phone call from an old friend, tellin' him tha' Merle had been released from jail three years early. We didn' actually think he would find were Daryl was. We kep' our guard up though, in case he came around. But, months wen' by withou' a word and we though' he was goin' to leave it alone; until he, literally, broke down Daryl's door.

"He threw Daryl into wall and choked me until I lost consciousness. After tha', I don' know wha' happened. I woke up in the hospital two days later after Murphy had found me. I found ou' I had a mild fractured larynx and was told I had to refrain from speakin' for a week while I healed. I was put on bed res' until I was better, which was jus' a huge pain in the ass. I couldn' even go look for him.

"Murphy had told me tha' by the time he found me, all of Daryl's things had been taken and his apartmen' was a wreck. We both though' tha' the reason he lef' me alone, was because he though' I was dead, and tha' would have worked ou' perfectly if we were able to find them. But, there was no trace, nothin'. I even tried callin' the friend tha' gave Daryl the heads-up abou' Merle, bu' tha' was a dead end. We looked every day, up until Murphy and I started our work for the Lord, and at that poin', almos' a year had passed. I was beginnin' to think tha' he was dead. So, me and Murphy set ou' to make the world better for anyone who had los' family, like we had."

"That son-of-a-bitch!" Andrea yelled, punching the ground before standing up to pace. "Stupid, homophobic, piece of shit-"

"Andrea!" Connor grabbed her arms, halting her movement. It's in the pas'. There's nothin' you can do abou' it now."

"I can help!" she insisted. "I can help him remember. After all you two have been through, you deserve to be happy together. It's not right, what happened."

"I appreciate tha', really, I do, but you can' force him to remember. I would love to have him remember me and Murphy and the family we had, bu' I migh' have to accep' tha' he may never remember, because it is a possibility tha' he won'. I'm jus' grateful tha' he's alive and ou' of Merle's clutches again. That's all I ever wanted for him." Connor smiled down at her.

Andrea huffed out a breath, shoulders sagging. "I understand that, but it's just not right. You guys deserve better."

"Obliged. You know, if Murphy were here, he'd punch Daryl in the face and, no doubt, he'd remember everythin'. Those two acted like idiots around each other, bu' you could tell they were family. You'd jus' never ge' them to admi' it."

"It must be very hard," Carol said, joining them, "to have lost someone you loved so dearly, but have him be right in front of you at the same time. And losing your brother on top of it all; I know how you feel and if I can help in any way, you name it, I'll do it."

Connor wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. "Thank you," he murmured it to her hair.

"Same here," Maggie said, placing a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Whatever you need."

"I'll do whatever I can," Andrea added, smile on her face.

Connor tried to swallow around the lump in his throat as he gave them a watery smile. His family may not be complete yet, but he was adding more members to it to make it stronger now more than ever.

"Come on," he said, pulling away from the girls, "this laundry isn' goin' to hang itself."

The three women exchanged glances, recognizing a distraction when they saw one, but deciding to go with it. 

"Shit," Andrea uttered. "We don't have a basket to carry the clothes back with."

"We'll improvise," Connor said. He picked up the two buckets that were used for rinsing and dump them out onto the, already, muddy grass.

Carol, catching on to his idea, dumped out the remaining buckets, shaking every last drop of dirty water out of them.

Everyone grabbed some clothes and started stuffing as much as they could into the buckets, until they were all loaded up.

Connor grabbed the washboards and detergent, placing them on top of his bucket, before picking it up. "Alrigh', let's finish this."

"You sound like we're going to war," Maggie laughed.

"You never know anymore," Connor retorted as they made their way back to camp.


	22. Chapter 22

Not twenty yards away, back up against a tree as he hid from view, sat Daryl; eyes wide, wet. Chest heaving as he took in every word that the Irishman had said. Family. That's what Connor kept saying. Connor, Murphy, Mama MacManus.

_Mama MacManus?_

Daryl flinched as he felt a pin prick of pain at his temple. Flashes of a small, portly woman with reddish blonde hair and bright, blue eyes flew across his vision. She had eyes like Connor, just a lighter color, but no less bold. She had the trademark MacManus grin: full of trouble and ready to fight. But also, very caring and full of love.

_"Daryl, my other lil' bastard, how are you, dear?"_

_Daryl laughed around the cigarette between his lips, holding the phone to his ear as he rolled his eyes at his blonde lover, fondly. "Hey, Mama MacManus."_

_"My boys dead ye'?" Annabelle asked. He heard a heavy thunk that sounded like heavy glass and could practically see her at her kitchen table, plunking down a big bottle of whiskey._

_Connor and Murphy let out, '_ heys!,'  _of exasperation._

_Daryl laughed, shaking his head. "Surprisingly, no. But, that could also be because I'm the only one kicking their asses lately."_

_"You're the one gettin' his ass kicked, inbred!" Murphy shouted, eyes dancing with laughter._

_Connor flipped him off, challenging smile tugging at his lips._

_Daryl smiled as he heard Annabelle wheeze out a laugh over the line._

Daryl gasped as his eyes focused again. He had a family. People who cared for him and loved him. People he would've died to protect.

He glanced around the tree, seeing Connor and the girls start to pack up. He ran before they could spot him, running around the side of the house so as to avoid the group. He couldn't take their scrutiny. Not now.

He didn't know where he was running to, until he came upon a pond. He collapsed on the hard ground, leaning forward until his head made contact with the dirt.

"Remember," he rasped. He grasped onto the Claddagh ring around his neck, tightly, as he fought off tears of frustration. He wanted his memories back. He wanted his  _family_ back. 

Murphy: his brother.

Annabelle: his mother.

Connor: his  _soulmate._

He chocked out a sob as the tears finally won out, spilling over his eyelids and soaking the ground beneath him. So much had been taken from him. So much time; gone. And he only knew bits and pieces of what had happened in his past.

He didn't know how much more he could take. He wanted to stop pretending: stop pretending he felt nothing for Connor. He wanted to stop being afraid. But, could he be the man that Connor knew all those years ago? What if that man was gone and he didn't want this version of Daryl Dixon?

No. He needed to remember before he went to Connor. He refused to be anything less than what the Saint deserved. 

Daryl lifted his head with resolve as he moved to the edge of the pond, glaring at his reflection. "Remember," he growled, searching his own eyes for a spark of recognition. "God dammit, you piece of shit, remember. Remember your life. Remember  _who you are."_

His ring caught the dying light of the sun and sparkled in the waters reflection, shining a bright light into his eyes.

_Daryl opened the door to Connor and Murphy's apartment, glancing around to find only the dark haired twin lounging around._

_Murphy raised his head from the couch and nodded in greeting before it fell back down into the cushions._

_"Hey, Murph." Daryl grabbed his legs and dumped them onto the floor, sitting down in the newly vacated spot. "Fucking bumb. Where's, Connor?"_

_Murphy muttered to himself as he sat upright, rubbing his face. "Gettin' more beer. You lookin' for him?"_

_"Actually, I was looking for you. Wanted to ask you something."_

_Attention piqued, Murphy sat forward as he took in Daryl's features; nervousness write all over them. "I'm listenin'."_

_Daryl took a deep breath, trying to stop the shaking of his hands. "You know that mine and Connor's anniversary is coming up."_

_Murphy nodded. "Aye, I know."_

_Daryl visibly swallowed. "Well, there was something very important that I wanted to do, and-"_

_"Jesus Christ! You're goin' to ask him to fuckin' marry you!" Murphy exclaimed, broad smile taking over his face._

_Daryl felt a weight lift off his shoulders at Murphy's excitement, grinning when the Irishman pulled him up, hugging him tightly._

_"Abou' fuckin' time!"_

_Daryl pulled away from the over enthusiastic man, eyeing him carefully. "So, you're okay with this?"_

_"Okay with it?" Murphy stopped, raising an eyebrow, head cocked. "Wait, did you come here to ask my permission?"_

_Daryl snorted. "Hell no. Just wanted to run it by you."_

_Murphy smirked. "Yeah, sure. So, you gonna ge' him a ring, or go withou'?"_

_Daryl sat back down in his previous spot, rubbing his head sheepishly. "That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about: Connor's never really worn jewelry, other than the rosary, so I don't know what he likes."_

_"Ah." Murphy sat next to him, thinking. "Well, usually Connor likes things tha' have meanin', or tell a story."_

_"Not sure I'll be able to find something that has a story. But, I was thinking: is there something that's customary in Ireland? I wanted him to be able to have something that reminded him of home."_

_Murphy slapped himself on the forehead. "I'm so fuckin' stupid."_

_Daryl snorted. "You're just now figuring that out?"_

_Murphy glared at him. "You wan' my help, or no'?"_

_Daryl raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, sorry. Continue."_

_"Ge' him a Claddagh ring."_

_Daryl furrowed his eyebrows. "A what?"_

_Murphy rolled his eyes. "A Claddagh ring. It's a symbol ring. It has two hands holdin' a heart with a crown on top."_

_The hunter nodded. "Okay, I know what you're talking about. What's it mean?"_

_"It means love, loyalty and friendship. It's tradition to use them as engagement rings in Ireland. It's a symbol for everything you need in a relationship. Trus' me, he'll love it."_

_Daryl smiled, socking Murphy on the shoulder, lightly. "It's perfect. Thanks, Murphy."_

_Murphy smirked, devilishly. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don' think you're off the hook jus' ye'. There's still one more person you need to talk to."_

_Daryl sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I know."_

_The dark haired Irishman grabbed the phone and placed it in Daryl's outstretched hand. "Good luck."_

_He looked down at the phone resignedly, before punching in the, now, familiar number for Annabelle MacManus._

Daryl looked down at his reflection, watching the silver shine against the tanned skin of his chest. Love. Loyalty. Friendship. That's what Murphy had said.

He would never stop being loyal.

"You left," he told himself, staring into his own grey eyes. "You got away and found something better. You found love. You wanted to get married. You loved that beautiful, Irish bastard, so you  _will_ remember him and be the man he deserves again."

He stood up, dusting off his clothes as he looked around for a way back, only to realise that he was only a half mile away.

He moved away from the bank, picking up his forgotten crossbow, when he noticed a cluster of Cherokee Roses growing by the edge of the pond. He remembered the one he had put in his shirt pocket and checked on it to make sure that it was still intact. It was.

Daryl sighed as he brought his ring up to eye level, watching the light reflect off of it. "I will remember you, Connor. I swear. I won't leave you again." He placed a gentle kiss on the silver, letting it fall underneath his shirt before he made his way back to camp. He had hope that he would get his family back, now, he wanted to give Carol that same hope.

He smiled as he walked, when he realized: he felt no pain.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been gone for far too long and, really, I have no excuse. I'm so sorry. But, just know, that this story is not over yet. I'm still writing and giving it to you guys. Thank you for patience. Love you!

_Falling._

_Pain._

_Walkers._

_A tired body, dragging itself back to camp. Pale from blood loss._

_Relief as he realized the body was not one of_ them.

_Fear and agony as he heard the gun shot, body falling to the ground._

"Daryl!" Connor shouted, bolting upright, gasping for breath. He glanced around and saw that he was inside his tent. 

He sighed as he ran shaking fingers through his hair, hanging his head as he got his bearings back.

Usually, he hated dreaming, especially if it was about someone he knew. Ever since God had spoken to him and Murphy that fateful night, he never knew if his dreams would become real. He really hoped this one wouldn't.

Shaking hands unzipped the tent flap, wincing as the cool night air hit his face. He climbed out of his makeshift shelter and stood, stretching his arms above his head as he looked out over his camp.

Embers still glowed bright in the darkness from the dying fire, illuminating the other tents surrounding it.

It had been a trying day for everyone. The Greene family had lost kin and delt with a walker on their property for the first time. Shane showed his true colors that day as a spiteful, hate filled, vindictive asshole. Sophia still hadn't been found and Carl had yet to awaken.

The group seemed like they were trying to hold themselves together by a fraying thread, but they were holding on. Connor was impressed by their will, but also worried for his new family. How much more could they take before they just snapped?

One person that he was really worried about, well, not worried per say, but wondering about, was, Daryl.

When Daryl had come back from his search, he seemed.... lighter. Like a huge weight had been lifted off of him. He didn't seem as troubled as he was when he left.

He had come up to Connor, gun and holster already in his outstretched hand when Connor noticed a flare of light in those grey eyes.

"Thanks for this," Daryl had said as he handed over the weapon, fingers brushing as Connor took it, leaving him with a slight upturned mouth.

Connor's eyes had widened a fraction at the sight. He had missed that little half smile. "A-any luck?" he stammered, trying to reel himself in.

Daryl nodded. "I found a makeshift bed in a cupboard. It was in one of the houses you suggested. Looked like it would be perfect size for her. But, she was gone when I got there."

Connor sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Poor kid. Bu', it's a star'. We can search around there more in the mornin'." He placed his hand on Daryl's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry you didn' find her. Will you be okay?"

Storm cloud eyes met deep ocean blue as the dark haired man smiled full on. "You know, I think I just might be."

Connor stood, dumbfounded as he watched the hunter walk away, lost in the memories of the other times he had seen that smile. 

He turned with a faint blush on his cheeks and shoved the gun into Shane's chest as he stalked by, destination unknown.

That had been hours ago, and he still was no closer to an answer for Daryl's strange behavior. He had entertained the idea of his memories coming back, but he quickly cast them aside. If Daryl was starting to remember, he would've said something. 

Maybe it was because they now had a lead on Sophia and would be reuniting her with her mother soon.

Whatever it was, he counted his blessings that at least one problem would be solved soon. The rest he would have to take one day at a time. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting chapters as quickly as I can. I really hate my new job. I have no time to write. So, this chapter was written in the precious seconds I had to spare. Enjoy my loves.

"Alright guys, gather round," Rick called, setting the map down on the hood of one of the trucks, "we've got a lot of ground to cover."

It was the next morning and everyone was getting ready to go out and search for Sophia.

Connor walked over, securing his quiver of arrows around his waist as he found an empty spot to look over the map. He glanced across the hood, eyes catching with Daryl's. He quirked the corner of his lips up at the brunette as Daryl gave a small smile in return. The more time he spent with the hunter made the aching knot in his chest loosen little by little.

"We're all getting new search grids today," Rick continued, knocking Connor out of his trance with those grey eyes. "If Sophia was as far as that farm house, she may have gone further East than we've been. We should concentrate on that area."

"I'd like to help."

Everyone turned to see Hershel's farm hand, and Beth's boyfriend, Jimmy approach, looking timid. "I know the area pretty we," he added.

"Hershel said this was okay?" Rick asked, eyeing the kid up and down.

"Y-yeah," Jimmy stuttered, "um, he said I should talk to you about it."

Connor and Daryl both rolled their eyes at the obvious lie.

"Okay. Thanks," Rick said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

"I don't think that what Daryl found was Sophia's," Shane input, lacing up his boots from inside the truck. "It could've been anyone in that house."

"Anyone should include her," Andrea shot back.

Connor knocked his shoulder against her gently, giving her a sly grin.

She bumped back affectionately.

"Whoever was in that cupboard was no bigger then yay-high." Daryl put his hand up to his waist, indicating a small child.

"It's a good lead," Connor said.

"Maybe we'll pick up her trail again," Rick added.

"No maybe about it," Daryl shot. "I'll borrow a horse and head up the ridge. Get a bird's-eye view of the area. If she's out there, I'll find her."

"Good idea," T-Dog said, fighting back a laugh. "Maybe you'll see your Chupacabra up there."

"Chupacabra?" Rick asked in disbelief.

Connor snorted. He remembered this story fondly. It was on of Daryl's favorites to tell when he was drunk.

"You never heard this story?" Dale asked, walking over with the bag full of guns. He set it on the hood and stated handing them out. "The first night in camp, Daryl says how this whole thing reminds him of the time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra."

Jimmy laughed.

"What are you braying at, jackass?" Daryl growled. He hated being laughed at.

"So, you believe in a blood-sucking dog?" Rick laughed.

Daryl shrugged. "You believe in dead people walking around?" he retorted.

Rick nodded. "Alright then."

Connor saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Jimmy reaching for one of the rifles. "Whoa, whoa," he said, putting out a hand to stop him. "You ever use one before, lad?"

"If I'm going out, I want one," Jimmy insisted.

"People in hell want slurpees," Connor and Daryl said together.

Daryl hoisted his crossbow over his shoulder and bumped his fist against Connor's outstretched one as he passed him on his way to the stables.

Connor smiled at the brunette's back fondly before turning back to the group, listening to Andrea and Shane bicker.

* * *

 

Daryl walked towards the stables, staring at his hand in confusion. It had been a reflex; The fist bump he shared with Connor. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. A fist bump? What a couple of dorks they were.

He entered the stables, placing his crossbow on the ground as he walked over to the individual stalls that held the horses, opening up the first one that he saw. He lead the mare out with a few clicks of his tongue and rubbed her neck, telling her to stay as he went to grab a saddle.

It took him a while to locate one as the mare looked a lot smaller than the other two horses. He needed to find one that was going to fit her and himself simultaneously. He let out a triumphant 'ha'!' as he finally found one that would do the job and walked back towards the horse, only to stop short as he took in the sight before him.

Connor was stroking the horse's muzzle and whispering quiet words to here as she nuzzled him, snorting into his face.

Daryl felt his heart speed up as he saw Connor's smile and heard his laugh. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of either of them. Which didn't come as a shock to him anymore. Days ago, he would have hated the very thought of being so smitten, but since he had accepted his attraction and connection to the Irishman yesterday, he wanted nothing more than to see that smile and hear that laugh everyday.

"Thank you."

Connor jumped at the sound of the hunter's voice, turning to face him. He squinted at him in confusion. "For wha'?"

Daryl turned to place the saddle on one of gates, keeping his back to the blonde so he wouldn't see his nervousness. "For not telling them about my scars," he said in a small voice.

He could feel Connor walk up behind him slowly, as if he was approaching a wild animal. He was an animal. He knew it was true. All the things that he had done, how he lashed out too quickly.

"They're no' mine to talk abou'," Connor said with a shrug.

Daryl turned, facing the blonde. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, wearing a sheesh expression. Grey v-neck sticking to his skin in the early Georgia heat. He couldn't help but think how beautiful Connor looked in that moment.

"I'm sorry. I didn' know you were there. I wouldn' have... I didn' mean-."

"It's alright," Daryl interrupted his rambling. "No harm done."

Connor caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at the skin as guilt crossed his face.

Daryl saw a flash of that lip caught between his own teeth and suppressed and aroused shudder.

The horse whined, clearly not happy that she had lost the attention. Connor turned his head to shush her and Daryl caught a glimpse of the bruise on his jaw. The bruise that he had put there. It was healing. Slowly. It was yellow around the edges, but still a dark shade of purple in the center.

Daryl flexed his hand as he remembered how he had struck Connor on pure reflex when he ran towards him. A reflex... He had fist bumped him on a reflex. Did that mean that he had been abusive in their relationship? Had he hit Connor?

He stalked over to Connor and gently grabbed his chin. He looked closely at his face to see if there were any lingering scars. Any lasting damage that could've been done by his own hand. There weren't any that he could see. His eyes widened in horror as he realized that he could have left marks where no one could see.

Connor seemed to know exactly what he was thinking as he grabbed Daryl's hand and shook his head rapidly. "No, no no. Don' think that, Daryl. You were  _no'_ abusive."

"... I hit you. I left that bruise. Me," came the quiet, anguished reply.

Connor shook his head. "You only did it, because I ran at you. I know tha' you did it because you fel' threatened. I jus'... I couldn' believe you were there. Five years withou' you, thinkin' you were dead, and there you were. Righ' infron' of me."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the blonde. He didn't like that Connor was making excuses for him. He stepped forward, making the Irishman take a step back. "Yeah. I felt threatened. Did I feel threatened before?" Step forward. "Or, did I do it out of anger?" Another step. "I bet I told you I'd never hurt you." Another step. "Never turn out like  _them._ " Another step and another, until he had Connor pressed against the stable wall. "I promised. Didn't I?"

"Daryl, stop," Connor pleaded. "This isn' you."

Daryl searched Connor's eyes, saw the sadness, hope and worry. But, there was no trace of fear. He hung his head in shame. "I don't even know who I am anymore." 

Connor cupped his face with his hands, tilting it up until their eyes met. "Liebling."

Daryl's eyes widened at the name.

" _I_ know who you are. And nothin', no' even you, will ever convince me tha' you are no' the man I fell in love with." One hand left Daryl's face as Connor placed it over his rapidly beating heart. "The man with the hear' of gold buried underneath all tha' self hate. The man who would never lay a hand on someone he loves. You never hur' me, Daryl. Never."

Daryl closed his eyes and pushed his forehead against Connor's. He couldn't bring himself to look into the deep blue pools that shined with so much love and trust for him. He knew he didn't deserve such devotion.

Connor closed his eyes as well, savoring the feeling of having Daryl so close to him again. His breathing hitched when he felt the brunette's hand come up to caress his bruised jaw, thumb running over his stubbled cheek softly. He nuzzled into the warmth of that hand, lips brushing over the callused skin.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Daryl asked, fighting back hot tears. "I'm so confused."

Connor opened his eyes and pulled away a fraction, causing Daryl's to snap open at the loss of contact. "Le' me help you, Daryl. Please?"

The hunter hesitated before nodded. He realised that that Andrea was right. If he wanted his memories back, then he was going to have to talk to the one person who knew what happened in the time he had lost. "When I get back, we'll talk. I have a lot of questions."

Connor laughed. "I don' doub' tha'."

They slowly released each other and put some distance between them, smiling sheepishly.

Connor was just about to let Daryl be on his way when he remembered his dream from the night before. "Daryl?"

Daryl nodded for him to continue.

Connor worried his bottom lip with his teeth, (a habit Daryl realised he had when he was thinking too hard) trying to find a good way to phrase what he wanted to say. When nothing came to him, he simply said; "Be careful. And brin' Sophia home."

Daryl saw the worry in those sapphire eyes and tried to put it to rest with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. We'll both be fine."

Connor smiled back and turned to leave the stable. He glanced over his shoulder to see the hunter busy with the saddle before he turned to the mare. Placing a hand on her muzzle, he looked deeply into her eyes. "Brin' him back safe, okay?"

She snorted and pushed against his hand. He took that as confirmation.

He took one last look at the brunette before heading back to the group to get his own search grids for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liebling - Darling


End file.
